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• I 







ONE NIGHT BOB WAS SITTING BEFORE THE CAMP-FIRE 



BOB HANSON 
TENDERFOOT 


BY 

Ralph H. Bowles 

x\ 

AND 

Russell Gordon Carter 



IHurtrated by S. GORDON SMYTH 

THE PENN PUBLISHING 
COMPANY PHILADELPHIA 
1921 



COPYRIGHT 
1931 BY 
THE PENN 
PUBLISHING 
COMPANY 



Bob Hanson, Tenderfoot 


SEP 20 1921 


0)C!.A622868 


Introduction 


A STURDY American boy and his friends in the 
Cedarville Troop No. 1 of the Boy Scouts fur- 
nish the interest for this series of stories. 

You will like impulsive Bob Hanson, even if 
at first he did think the Scouts were rowdies who 
wasted their time on woodcraft. You will like 
quiet Fred Ashleigh, who induces Bob to go to 
the scout camp as an outsider. You will like 
energetic Reddy McTurk quite as well as Bob 
came to like him before the end of the summer. 
And you will laugh at the Egg’s funny antics as 
heartily as Bob did. 

In the company of such capable and fun-loving 
boys as Fred, Reddy and the Egg, Bob not only 
enjoys his vacation at Glen Gray but learns the 
many interesting events in the daily life of the 
Scouts. He also learns to take care of himself, 
and the knowledge proves valuable. Before they 
return to Cedarville, Bob and Fred meet with 
an adventure that even three years later thrills 
them whenever they think of it. 

3 


4 


INTRODUCTION 


Why Bob changes his opinion of the Scouts 
and decides to undergo the impressive ceremony 
that makes him a tenderfoot will be obvious to 
everyone who loves the comradeship of good fel- 
lows and the clean life and vigor of the great out- 
of-doors. 


Contents 


I. 

Vacation Plans 



9 

II. 

Getting Under Way . 



. 20 

III. 

Off for the Camp 



29 

IV. 

The First Day 



37 

V. 

On the Way to be a Tenderfoot 

53 

VI. 

The Initiation 



. 62 

VII. 

The Raid 



70 

VIII. 

The Investigation 



. 81 

IX. 

An Adventure With a Porky 


92 

X. 

A Queer Fish 



. 102 

XI. 

The Overnight Games 



. 117 

XII. 

Reddy McTurk Scores . 



. 132 

XIII. 

The Tables Turned 



. 148 

XIV. 

Back at the Scout Camp 



. 162 

XV. 

The Three-Day Hike . 



. 170 

XVI. 

Scouts to the Rescue . 



. 181 

XVII. 

Alone at the Reservoir 



. 188 

XVIII. 

Fred Goes for the Sheriff 



. 194 

XIX. 

Hands Up ! . 



. 199 

XX. 

T HE End of the Hike . 



. 207 

XXI. 

The Honor Medal 



. 216 


5 


T 


Illustrations 

PAGE 

One Night Bob was Sitting Before the Camp- 
fire ....... Frontispiece 

“What’S His Name, Vincent Astorbilt?” . 32 

“Bring the Prisoner Before Me” ... 75 

It Took Only a Minute to Make Him Secure 151 

“Hands Up!” 203 


Bob Hanson, Tenderfoot 








Bob Hanson, Tenderfoot 


CHAPTER I 

VACATION PLANS 

It was lunch hour at the Cedarville High 
School. The fierce rays of the noonday sun beat 
down relentlessly against the hard sidewalk in 
front of the building. On the grass in the rear of 
the school it was shady and cool, however, and 
here were gathered small groups of boys waiting 
for the afternoon session to begin. Some of them 
romped and wrestled on the soft grass, filling the 
air with shouts and laughter. Others stretched 
themselves at full length, munching apples or 
peanuts. A few of the more industrious were 
putting finishing touches on afternoon lessons, 
apparently undisturbed by the noise about them. 
On the tennis courts near by a doubles match 
was in progress, and every now and then a wild 
ball would fall among the loungers on the grass 
9 


10 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

and be thrown back in response to the calls of 
the players. 

Seated by himself, at some distance from the 
other boys, Bob Hanson held a bag of peanuts 
in his hand and from time to time munched one 
lazily. He was a sturdy, well-built boy of four- 
teen, with a frank, open, sunburned face, blue 
eyes, and a shock of thick, light-brown hair. Oc- 
casionally he knit his brows and struck the grass 
almost savagely with the heel of his shoe. 

Bob was in a bad humor, for his world was 
distinctly upset. Here it was the middle of June, 
and the end of school only ten days off, and no 
plans had been made for the summer. It was 
the first time within his remembrance that his 
coming vacation seemed uncertain. Generally 
as soon as school had closed he had hurried off 
somewhere on a delightful trip. One summer 
he had gone with his father to a fishing camp in 
the Adirondacks to spend several weeks living in 
the open, fishing for trout in the lakes or brooks, 
tramping through the beautiful woods and climb- 
ing rugged mountains. Another year he had 
gone to the seashore, where he had enjoyed him- 
self swimming, sailing and canoeing. Always it 
had been something interesting. And when he 


VACATION PLANS 11 

tired of one thing there had always been some- 
thing new to turn to. But now things were dif- 
ferent. 

A fortnight ago, Bob’s father had been called 
to Washington on important Government work, 
and only this morning a letter had come from 
him saying that he expected to remain there in- 
definitely. His mother was very busy with re- 
construetion work, together with the task of 
winding up the business of the local Red Cross 
Chapter she had organized. In reply to Bob’s 
anxious inquiry as to the summer she had said 
that she would have to stay at home. “ People 
are too busy with after- the- war duties this sum- 
mer to be able to spend their time in play,” she 
explained. 

“ But Mother,” protested Bob, “ why can’t I 
go up to the Adirondacks without Father? Old 
Ran will be there, won’t he? And Manuel? I 
could get along all right even if Father is in 
Washington.” 

But his mother shook her head. “No, Ran 
won’t be there this year. He is still with the 
Army of Occupation and has decided to remain 
in the service ; the last I heard of Manuel he was 
cooking for a New York hotel.” 


12 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

It was indeed a dreary prospect that Bob saw 
ahead of him as he sat there on the grass behind 
the High School. His thoughts were suddenly 
interrupted when someone called his name. 
Looking up he saw it was Fred Ashleigh walk- 
ing toward him. 

“ Hello, Fred, sit down and have some pea- 
nuts.” Bob offered him the bag. 

“Thanks!” replied Fred, helping himself to 
a handful. “ Well, it’s almost over, isn’t it? ” he 
said with a smile. 

“ What’s over? ” asked Bob. 

“ The school year,” replied Fred. “ In ten 
days vacation will be here, and we can all beat it 
to the woods.” 

Bob shook his head disconsolately. “ No such 
luck for me, I’m afraid. My plans are all shot 
to pieces. Dad’s in Washington and will prob- 
ably stay there all summer. Mother’s busy with 
Red Cross and reconstruction work and expects 
to stick right here on the job. So where do I 
come in? No fishing in the Adirondacks, no 
sailing at the seashore — nothing to do but hang 
around here all summer.” 

Fred smiled. “ You’re taking it pretty hard, 
aren’t you? I’ve never been to the Adirondacks 


VACATION PLANS 


13 


in my life, and I haven’t often been to the sea- 
shore. Still I’ve managed to make out pretty 
weU in spite of that.” 

“ Nothing doing around here,” continued Bob. 
“ It’s a regular graveyard.” 

“ Well, you don’t have to stay here,” replied 
Fred. “ I don’t intend to.” 

“ What are you going to do? ” asked Bob with 
some interest. 

“ I’m going to beat it for the Scout camp first 
of July.” Fred’s eyes sparkled in anticipation. 

“ But I’m not a Scout,” protested Bob. “ I 
couldn’t go there.” 

“ That doesn’t make any difference. Come 
along anyway. The camp’s at Glen Gray and 
it’s a peach of a quiet little spot. Study up for 
your exams as a Tenderfoot and take them at the 
camp. That’ll be easy.” 

Bob was about to reply but quickly checked 
himself. He didn’t quite like to say what was 
in his mind for fear of offending Fred. Thought- 
fully he crushed a peanut shell in his fingers. 
“ I’m not sure that I want to be a Scout,” he re- 
plied after a long pause. 

“ I’m surprised to hear you say that,” declared 
Fred impulsively. “ Why not? ” 


14 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

Bob was silent again for a minute or two; then 
he answered somewhat hesitatingly, “ Well, you 
see, Fred, if all the Seouts were like you, it 
wouldn’t take me two minutes to decide, but the 

trouble is ” Here he broke off abruptly and 

coughed to hide his embarrassment. 

“ The trouble is what? ” asked Fred, looking 
directly at him. 

“ It’s — it’s not easy to explain, but the fact is 
so many of the fellows in the Scouts are — well, 
not exactly my sort. I guess they are all right 
in a way, but some of them are rather — well, 
they’re ‘ rubes,’ you know.” 

Fred was tempted to make an angry reply, 
but with an effort he kept control of his tongue, 
and immediately he was glad. After all, here 
was a chance to help a friend and also help the 
Scouts. He was aware that there was a preju- 
dice against the Scouts among a certain set of 
boys at school. He had often heard his friends 
sneered at as “ rough necks and he had noticed 
that nearly always the sneers came from boys 
who had no influence at school, except perhaps 
in a social way. They were idlers, who accom- 
plished little in their studies or in the school 
sports; and they had formed a little group who 


VACATION PLANS 15 

kept mostly to themselves, and who boasted 
openly of getting poor marks in their studies. 
They referred to the teachers as “ poor simps ” 
or “ old maids,” and seemed to consider that the 
chief object in life was to have a “ good time.” 
In their opinion a “ good time ” seemed to con- 
sist in some form of idling. After school they 
frequented the drug-stores, drinking soda-water 
or smoking cigarettes ; at night they could always 
be found at the “ movies.” Fred knew that Bob 
had some friends in this set and was inclined to 
spend much of his time with them. Still he had 
always thought there was good stuff in Bob and 
therefore he welcomed this chance to have a frank 
talk with him. 

“ I know what you mean. Bob,” he said, speak- 
ing slowly and weighing his words carefully. 
“ Lots of the fellows in the Scouts aren’t what 
you would call showy. Very few of them have 
rich fathers or live in big houses, with automobiles 
and horses and servants and that sort of thing. 
But after all that’s nothing against them. The 
real test of the fellows who are Scouts is how they 
stand in school. Who are the fellows that get 
the best marks? I think you’ll find that most of 
them are Scouts. Who are the best athletes? 


16 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

Who are the fellows that are really holding the 
most important jobs and doing the real work of 
the school? Why, they are Scouts in every 
case.” 

Bob had never had the thing put to him in 
just this way before. He was silent for several 
moments as he thoughtfully broke open a peanut. 
At length he said slowly, “ I never thought of it 
that way before; the Scouts do seem to get good 
marks, and I guess there’s no doubt that they 
take most of the prizes in athletics.” 

Seeing that he was influencing Bob, Fred 
hastened to follow up his advantage. “ I tell 
you what it is. Bob,” he said, “ I’m sure that if 
you came up to the Scout camp and tried it for 
a week you’d want to stay longer. And after 
you got to know the fellows better you’d want to 
be a Scout yourself.” 

“ But could I really go to the camp without 
being a Scout? ” asked Bob in surprise. 

“ Sure thing! ” replied Fred. “ There are al- 
ways a few fellows at camp who don’t belong. 
They generally take their exams and become 
Scouts before they leave, though, and that’s what 
you would do. I’m sure you would.” 

“ Well, I’ll think it over and let you know. 


VACATION PLANS 17 

I’ve got to make some kind of an arrangement 
pretty soon, and what you say sounds rather in- 
teresting,” said Bob. Fred’s enthusiasm had not 
been without its effect. 

At this point in the conversation the school 
bell rang and the boys went back into the build- 
ing. 

From time to time that afternoon Bob thought 
of his talk with Fred. His friend’s earnestness 
had impressed him more than anything else. He 
admired him a great deal ; for he knew him to be 
an excellent student, though not a “ grind,” and 
also an athlete of more than average ability. De- 
cidedly Fred Ashleigh was neither a “ rube ” nor 
a “ rough neck.” If the rest of the Scouts were 
like him. Bob felt he would certainly enjoy know- 
ing them. What other boys were there in school 
who were Scouts, he asked himself? There was 
Tommy Fielder, the first baseman on the nine. 
His father was only a policeman, but Tommy 
was a clean, honest fellow with a sunny disposi- 
tion. Nobody could say a word against him. 
Then there was Eddy Braley, the best ball player 
in school ; certainly he was not a “ rube.” One 
after another Bob named them over and was 
forced to acknowledge that most of them were 


18 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

boys who were really doing things in school. He 
could not think of an idler among them. 

That night at dinner he again brought up the 
matter of a summer vacation. 

“ Mother,” he said, “ I’ve been thinking it over, 
and I believe I’d like to go to the Scout camp 
for a while just to see what it’s like.” 

His mother looked up from her knitting in sur- 
prise. “ Why, Bob ! I thought you didn’t care 
much about the Scouts,” she exclaimed. 

“ Well, I didn’t,” he admitted smiling, “ but 
I’ve been talking with Fred Ashleigh about it, 
and I’ve decided that I should like to try a week 
or two at the camp just for the fun of it. If I 
don’t like it I shan’t have to stay.” 

His mother reflected a minute or two. “ Well, 
I’ve no objection, my son, and I know your 
father would not have any,” she said. “ You talk 
the matter over with Fred and find out what you 
will need for an outfit.” 

As a matter of fact Mrs. Hanson was 
greatly pleased. She had been worried about 
her son’s vacation, and the Scout camp seemed 
likely to solve the summer problem very well, 
provided Bob liked it, of course. As for Bob he 
could scarcely wait for morning. After dinner 


VACATION PLANS 19 

he hurried to the telephone and called Fred 
up. 

“ Say,” he said, “ I’ve spoken to Mother and 
she says I can go.” 

“ Go where? ” came back Fred’s puzzled voice. 

“ To the Scout camp. Don’t you remember 
what we were talking about this noon? ” 

“Oh, yes! Of course I remember. Well, 
that’s certainly fine. I didn’t expect to have you 
decide so soon.” 

“ I’ll talk with you about it to-morrow. I’ve 
got lots of questions to ask.” Bob’s voice be- 
trayed his eagerness. 

“ All right, I’ll try and answer them. It’s 
bully to know that you can go.” 

And so Bob Hanson had made a decision 
that was to have a most important influence on 
his life, a decision that promised fun, excitement 
and a little danger, to say nothing of a new in- 
terest in the better things of life. 


CHAPTER II 


GETTING UNDEE WAY 

The next two weeks passed rapidly for Bob 
Hanson. The final examinations at the High 
School called for some extra attention, but they 
were at last disposed of, not with high honors, 
but with passing grades in every subject. There 
was the final baseball game of the year with the 
Newtown High School, Cedarville’s old rival, at 
which Bob acted as cheer leader for his class and 
yelled himself hoarse over the clean-cut victory 
for his team. There were also graduating exer- 
cises for the older boys and girls, but as Bob was 
only a freshman these did not affect him. At 
the end of a fortnight his school duties were over 
and there was nothing of immediate necessity 
that demanded his attention. Bob heaved a deep 
sigh of relief. 

“ Now,” he said to himself, “ if I am going up 
to the Scout camp I must get together an outfit, 
20 


GETTING UNDER WAY. 21 

and I tell you, Joe Miller,” — Joe Miller was the 
name that Bob always gave himself in his solilo- 
quies — “ I’m going to have an outfit that will 
make those Scouts sit up and take notice.” 

Foolishly he would not ask Fred Ashleigh for 
any advice about his camp equipment. “ I giiess 
I’ve camped out enough not to need any advice 
on that point from a Scout,” he said to himself. 
“ I’ve been in the Adirondacks with Dad and I 
know what I ought to take. So I won’t say a 
word to Fred. I’ll turn up at camp with my 
outfit and surprise him.” 

At this idea Bob chuckled. He would show 
Fred that he knew a thing or two about camp- 
ing. He would get together a cracker jack out- 
fit and not say a word about it. Then he would 
watch Fred and the other fellows open their eyes. 
“ Ha, ha I Joe Miller,” he laughed to himself, 
“ we’ll show them that we know a thing or two 
even if we aren’t Scouts.” 

When he mentioned the matter to his mother 
she told him to go in to Twombly’s, the big New 
York sporting outfitter, where his father always 
bought his supplies, and get whatever he needed. 
“ Have it charged,” she said, supposing that her 
son had consulted with Fred about his needs. 


22 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

So Bob spent a whole morning selecting an 
outfit with the greatest care. First he picked out 
the very latest and best-approved pattern of wall 
tent made of some sort of pale-green, water-proof 
material with sliding windows of ising-glass. 
Next came a folding cot with a beautiful sleeping 
bag of water-proof canvas lined with heavy 
woolen blankets. A folding table, chairs, electric 
lanteril, a sheet-iron stove with cooking utensils 
of aluminum, an axe and a compact camp chest 
were quickly added to his supply. Here Bob 
paused. Was there anything else that he needed? 
He had a hatchet, a hunting knife, a compass, a 
good fishing-rod and a landing net. Perhaps he 
had better buy a little additional tackle. He had 
rubber boots, three flannel shirts, two sweaters 
and a poncho, so that he did not have to buy new 
ones. “ Well, Joe Miller,” he declared, “ I guess 
you’re about fixed up.” Then all at once he re- 
membered that there was a lake at the camp. 
“ Gee I ” he exclaimed, “ I pretty nearly forgot 
the most important thing. Of course I’ve got 
to have a canoe.” After listening to a great deal 
of advice from the salesman, he selected a seven- 
teen foot canvas canoe. It was a beauty, painted 
a bright green, with an Indian’s head on each 


GETTING UNDER WAY, 


23 


side of the bow. Then he bought a jointed mast, 
a sail, a pair of sideboards and a rudder, in order 
that he might use the canoe for sailing if he 
wished. 

“ There, Joe Miller,” he said to himself, when 
this part of his task was completed, “ I guess 
we’re about through. And I rather think we 
have an outfit that will beat anything ever seen 
at the Scout camp. We’ll just watch their eyes 
stick out when they see our stuff.” 

Bob was highly pleased with himself. He had 
his outfit sent home and stored in the garage ; his 
mother smiled but said nothing. He was careful 
not to let any of his boy friends see it. “We 
must surprise them, Joe Miller,” he said. 

A few days later Fred Ashleigh hailed Bob 
on the street. “ Hello! ” he called. “ How are 
you going up to camp? ” 

“ Why, I had thought of having our chauffeur 
take me up in the car,” replied Bob. 

“ Oh, don’t do that,” said Fred. “ Why not 
go along in the real Scout way? ” 

“ How’s that? ” 

“ Why, we all go up in the Ark.” 

“ The Ark? ” asked Bob, looking puzzled. 

Fred laughed. “ Oh, I forgot that you 


24 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

wouldn’t know, not being a Scout. The Ark is 
the nickname we give to Mr. Callahan’s big 
motor bus. He takes us up to camp every year 
and brings supplies to us once a week. You come 
along with the boys ; it will be twice as much fun.” 

Bob began to have doubts about his elaborate 
outfit. “ How do you get your stuff up there? ” 
he asked. 

“ Oh, that’s all right. We have a trailer that 
we pull along behind. If there’s anything that 
we can’t pile on, we can usually get a tin Lizzie 
or two to help out.” 

“ Well, I suppose that’s the best way to go,” 
said Bob slowly. He wished he had not bought 
so much equipment. 

“ Sure thing! Have your stuff down at Scout 
Headquarters by nine o’clock sharp Wednesday 
morning and go along with us. You know where 
that is, don’t you? It’s in Javrins Block; you 
can’t miss it. You’ll hear us yelling a mile away. 
Don’t be late.” 

“ All right! I’ll be on time.” Bob wondered 
how he could possibly wait for Wednesday. 
There was something very contagious in Fred’s 
enthusiasm. After all that would be the best 
way to go. It would give him a chance to meet 


GETTING UNDER WAY 25 

more of the boys and it would be pleasant just 
to have Fred with him. 

A few doors farther along the street Bob 
started to enter the drug-store to get a supply 
of court-plaster and some fly cream. Leaning 
against the wall near the door smoking cigarettes 
were three or four of his high school acquaint- 
ances. Bob nodded to them cordially. 

“ What’s this I hear about your being a 
Scout? ” asked one of them, lighting a match. 

“ Well, what do you hear? ” asked Bob a little 
imeasily. He dreaded the thought of being 
laughed at. 

“ We hear you’re going to join the ‘ rough- 
neck’ brigade up at the Scout camp,” said a 
fat, red-faced boy with a sneer. “ Didn’t think 
that of you. Bob. I always thought you were 
one of us.” 

“ I don’t know what you mean by rough-neck 
brigade,” replied Bob quietly. “ But it’s true 
that I’m planning to go up to the Scout camp 
for a week or two. If I like it maybe I shall stay 
longer.” 

“ Ho! ho! You’ll come back with your knees 
bare and a red bandanna for a necktie, I’ll bet a 
jitney,” shouted the boy who had spoken first. 


26 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

Bob flushed, but tried not to show his annoy- 
ance. 

“ Come up and see me as soon as I get settled,*' 
he suggested pleasantly. “ Come and stay a 
couple of weeks and see if you like it.” 

“Listen to him!” shouted the red-faced boy. 
“ Imagine me going round bare-legged like my 
kid brother and jumping up and saluting every 
time I met one of those long-faced schoolmasters 
— scoutmasters — is that what you call ’em? Not 
on your life! ” 

“ Well, I couldn’t blame you for not want- 
ing to go round bare-legged, Nellie,” laughed 
Bob. “ You certainly would be a picture in 
shorts.” 

At this the other boys raised a shout of laughter 
and “ Nellie ” Paynter, the fat boy, grew redder 
than ever. While the other boys were rallying 
each other, Ted Patrick, who up to this point had 
not spoken, took Bob by the arm and led him to 
one side. 

“ Say, Bob,” he began earnestly in a low voice, 
“ I hope you aren’t really thinking of joining the 
Scouts.” 

“ Well, Ted, I don’t know. Maybe I won’t. 
I haven’t made up my mind yet. It will depend 


GETTING UNDER WAY 27 

a good deal on how I like the looks of things up 
at the camp.” 

“ Well, don’t hurry; you know you don’t want 
to queer yourself socially. If you get in too 
thick with that Scout crowd it might hurt your 
chance of making a good frat.” 

Bob looked a little uncomfortable, “ Do you 
really think so? ” he asked. 

“ I sure do. If you’ll take notice you’ll find 
that there are no Scouts in any of the frats. 
They don’t count for anything socially. So be 
careful.” 

“ Thanks, Ted,” replied Bob. “ I’ll remember 
what you say. Meanwhile, come up and see me 
after I’ve got settled.” 

Ted Patrick made no reply to this and Bob 
hurried up the street. He was rather worried at 
what Ted had told him, for it had been his am- 
bition ever since he had entered high school to 
join one of the fraternities. 

That night before falling asleep he thought 
long and seriously about the matter. Was it 
true that if he became a Scout he would not 
amount to anything socially? He named over 
to himself the Scouts he knew, and had to admit 
that there was not one of them who was not a 


28 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

clean, agreeable fellow; but none of them were 
frat members. Still, there wasn’t a finer boy in 
school than Fred Ashleigh; and if it came to 
choosing between him and Ted Patrick, he should 
choose Fred. Nevertheless, Ted Patrick and his 
friends had always treated him nicely and seemed 
to welcome his company. They doubtless had 
their good points, too, he told himself. This was 
the first time that Bob had ever compared the 
Scouts with his old friends and he was frankly 
puzzled. Well, he should soon find out if the 
Scouts really were good fellows. “ If I don’t 
like it at camp. I’ll make tracks for home,” he 
said half aloud. 


CHAPTER III 


OFF FOR THE CAMP 

On Wednesday morning the street in front of 
Scout Headquarters was a scene of noisy confu- 
sion. Beside the curb in front of the main en- 
trance to the building stood the Ark, a huge, 
clumsy motor bus that would seat nearly twenty- 
five boys. Behind it a small, open cart was piled 
high with baggage of all sorts, and near by two 
dilapidated motor cars were drawn up to accom- 
modate any overflow of passengers and baggage. 
The sidewalk was cluttered with tents, blankets, 
cots, duffle bags, baskets, and packages of every 
conceivable size and shape. Boys of all ages 
swarmed about the baggage, yelling, shouting, 
and laughing. It never seemed to occur to any- 
body to speak in an ordinary tone of voice. 
Everybody shouted to each other as if the whole 
world were deaf. The boys were of various sizes, 
but they were alike in one respect — ^nearly all of 
them wore the Scout uniform. Khaki shirts, 
29 


30 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

and shorts, showing bare knees above black or 
khaki-colored stockings, red bandannas knotted 
loosely about the neck, and felt hats gave them 
an appearance of military uniformity. They 
were a fine-looking gathering of American boys, 
as more than one person remarked that morning, 
and their eyes shone with the thoughts of a sum- 
mer in the woods. 

In spite of the uproar there was a certain 
orderliness about the whole proceeding. Sam 
Callahan, the garage keeper and the proud owner 
of the Ark, was superintending the loading of 
the trailer, while from time to time, Mr. Mc- 
Gregor, the Scout Commissioner, appeared to 
consult with a boy or with his anxious parents 
about some question of importance that had come 
up at the last moment. Fred Ashleigh was very 
busy making himself useful. As a patrol leader 
and headquarters bugler, he occupied a position 
of some influence. He devoted most of his time 
giving advice and assistance to the younger boys. 

In the midst of the confusion a motor car drove 
up and Bob Hanson jumped out. Fred shouted 
as soon as he caught sight of him. 

“ Hello, Bob! It’s fine to see you. Where’s 
your stuff? ” 


OFF FOR THE CAMP 


31 


“ Coming,” answered Bob with a grand sweep 
of his arm. He had hardly spoken when a large 
motor truck appeared with his elaborate out- 
fit. 

Fred stared in amazement. All work stopped. 
The other boys ceased shouting as the men in 
charge of the truck started to unload the canoe 
and the various bimdles, bags and boxes. 

“ Some junk, eh! ” exclaimed one of the boys 
at last. “ Wonder if he’s going to open a store? ” 

“ Gee! How large is his party? ” inquired an- 
other. 

“ Must be going to make a long stay,” com- 
mented a third loudly. 

Bob’s face grew red and he looked at Fred 
inquiringly. Fred barely smothered an inclina- 
tion to laugh with the rest. “ Well, now, that’s 
fine. Bob,” he said in a casual manner. “ I’m 
mighty glad you’re going to take a canoe with 
you. You’ll find plenty of use for it on the lake. 
But let me see; we’ll never get all your stuff on 
the trailer.” 

That was perfectly evident. The trailer was 
already piled high with baggage. At a pinch a 
place might be found for everything but the 
canoe. 


32 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“Why not get the truckman to carry your 
stuff right up to the camp? ” he suggested. 

“ That will be the best way, no doubt,” replied 
Bob, feeling very uncomfortable. “ Maybe I 
brought too much.” And that was the way it 
was settled. The truckmen were good-natured 
about it. 

During the next half hour while he waited for 
the Ark to start Bob had to endure the curious 
stares of the other boys and listen to a little pleas- 
ant fun at his expense. 

“ See that swell guy over there? ” he overheard 
one boy say. “ He has to have a special express 
train to take his stuff up to the camp.” 

“ Gee! Is that so? ” came the reply in a sur- 
prised tone of voice. “ What’s his name? Vin- 
cent Astorbilt? ” 

Bob was greatly relieved when the last piece 
of baggage was packed on the trailer and all the 
boys were seated on the truck. Then there was 
a pause and he wondered if something had gone 
wrong. In a moment, however, Mr. McGregor 
appeared from around the corner. Taking a 
final look at the loaded machines he gave a com- 
mand in a low voice to F red. At once the vibrant 
notes of the Assembly rang out on Fred’s bugle. 



“what’s his name, VINCENT ASTORBILT?” 



OFF FOR THE CAMP 


33 


As the last echoes died away, the motors purred, 
and the machines leaped forward. They were 
off for camp ! 

The ride that followed was delightful. For 
several miles the road wound through beautiful 
farming country interspersed with stretches of 
woodland. In some places great patches of 
Indian corn lined the road on both sides ; in others 
there were acres of low-growing potato plants 
stretching away over the fields. After a time the 
busses climbed a long hill from which the boys 
could see the country for miles and miles. The 
view was magnificent. All along the northern 
horizon the rugged outlines of a range of moun- 
tains rose sharply against the sky. Away to the 
left a lake, half hidden by wooded hills, shim- 
mered in the morning sunlight. 

“Gee!’’ exclaimed Bob with admiration, 
“ I’ve never seen anything in the Adirondacks 
prettier than this.” 

Fred Ashleigh smiled. “ We’ll show you other 
things just as surprising before we get through 
with you, Bob. You’re only at the beginning. 
Those are the Ramapo Mountains that you see,” 
he continued, pointing at the distant peaks. 
“ The Scout camp is just in the edge of the foot- 


34 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

hills and about eight miles away as the crow 
flies.” 

An hour later the Ark stopped at the foot of 
a little glen. Here they all clambered to the 
ground and ran and jumped about to take the 
kinks out of their joints. Bob looked around 
expectantly. 

“ Where is the camp? ” he asked. 

“ Oh! The camp isn’t here,” answered Fred. 
“ It’s half a mile up the glen. We have to walk 
in and tote our stuff.” 

Bob thought dismally of all his heavy baggage. 
The sun was almost overhead now and it was 
decided to eat lunch before undertaking the 
strenuous work. So the boys threw themselves 
down on the soft grass and opened their lunch 
boxes. F ortunately there was cool water to drink 
from a spring in the deserted garden of a tumble- 
down farmhouse near by. Lunch was eaten amid 
shouts of laughter. 

“Gee, what an appetite I have!” exclaimed 
Bob. “ I’ve eaten up every blessed thing I 
brought.” 

Fred laughed. “ You’re starting out all right 
to be a good Scout,” he said. “ All Scouts have 
fine appetites.” 


35 


OFF FOB THE CAMP 

When lunch was over the boys set to work to 
tote their belongings to the camp-site farther up 
the glen. It was a scorching hot July day, and 
the up-hill walk over the narrow trail was diffi- 
cult; and not one trip but several, were necessary 
to bring in all their belongings. A number of 
his new friends gave Bob a hand with his canoe. 
Bob followed the example set by some of the 
older boys and stripped to the waist. This made 
him feel more comfortable, at first, but before he 
realized it, his neck and arms were painfully sun- 
burned. 

At last everything was transported up the 
glen and the trucks were sent back. The head- 
quarters tent and the supply tent were pitched, 
and the boys began to raise their own smaller 
tents. They were in the midst of this work when 
the sky became suddenly overcast. Then, almost 
without warning, rain began to fall in torrents. 
There was a general stampede for cover. 
The boys who had not had time to pitch 
their own tents took shelter in those of their 
luckier comrades; blankets and other belong- 
ings were hastily stuffed in out of the wet 
wherever they would go. To make matters 
worse, the storm continued without signs of 


36 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

letting up, and they had to eat their first reg- 
ular meal in a camp under a leaky awning. For 
a time Bob found it rather depressing; but the 
hot supper tasted good and he soon felt better. 
Finally the rain ceased and a huge camp-fire was 
started. In the dusk of the evening the boys sat 
round the blaze on boxes or camp-stools and dried 
their clothes as they discussed the events of the 
afternoon. It was a delightful ending to a busy 
day. 

Bob was one of those who had not been able 
to get his tent pitched before the shower, and at 
Fred Ashleigh’s invitation had brought all of 
his outfit into Fred’s tent. Now Taps was 
sounded, clear and musical in the quiet glen, the 
night watch was posted, and a few minutes later 
Bob lay snuggled up in his sleeping bag watching 
the flickering camp-fire through the door of the 
tent. It had been a busy day. It seemed to Bob 
the busiest day that he could remember. But as 
he lay there watching the fire and thinking over 
his experiences he felt very glad that he had come. 
“ Yes, Joe Miller,” he said to himself, “ it looks 
to me as if this Scout camp might turn out to 
be a little bit of the real thing.” 


CHAPTER IV 


THE EIRST DAY 

Ra-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta! Ta-ta-ta! The clear 
tones of F red Ashleigh’s bugle were ringing out 
over the Scout camp, rousing the sleeping boys, 
and echoing from the hills. Shouts and groans 
from the tents greeted the bugle-call as the sleepy 
boys began to turn out. Bob Hanson opened 
his eyes as Fred returned to the tent. 

“Hello, Fred!” he called. “What do you 
mean by routing a fellow out of a sound sleep 
like that? ” 

Fred laughed. “ Time to get up, old man. 
That’s Reveille, you know, and means that every- 
body has to roll out of bed. Five minutes before 
setting up exercises; so you’d better hustle.” 

Bob pulled himself rather reluctantly out of 
his warm sleeping bag. He found he was a little 
stiff from his exercise of yesterday, but he hur- 
ried into his clothes and a few minutes later 
37 


38 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

joined the boys who were assembled in front of 
headquarters tent. After a brief wait they all 
started to go through the setting up exercises 
under the leadership of Mr. Bradley, familiarly 
known as Old Four Eyes, who was Mr. McGreg- 
or’s assistant. Bob smiled as he looked the boys 
over. They were in all sorts of dress and un- 
dress, from B V D’s to full uniform; their faces 
shone happily as they went through their ex- 
ercises with a snap. 

“ Makes you feel good, doesn’t it? ” said Bob’s 
neighbor, a tall, wiry boy with a long head and 
closely clipped hair. 

“ It would, I suppose, if my neck and arms 
weren’t so sunburned,” replied Bob. 

“ Gee! You did get well cooked,” replied the 
long-headed boy whose name was Arthur Eggle- 
ston, but whom everybody called the Egg. He 
looked at Bob critically. “ You ought to have 
greased yourself up with cold cream,” he said. 

“ I did,” answered Bob. 

“ Oh, well, then, the soreness will soon wear 
off. I had a great time last year the first week 
I was in camp. I got cooked up the first day just 
as you did, but I didn’t know enough to put on 
any cold cream. For three or four days I was 


THE FIRST DAY 


39 


so sore that I could hardly wear any clothes, and 
then I shed my skin like a snake. For a while I 
guess I must have looked the way a soft-shelled 
crab feels.” 

Bob laughed. “ Or a boiled lobster,” he sug- 
gested. 

At this moment Fred Ashleigh hailed him. 
“ Hello, Bob,” he called, “ it’s the morning 
washup next. Get your tooth brush. I have 
towels and soap.” 

They all trailed down to a little mountain 
stream that tumbled through the woods a few 
rods behind the camp and washed their faces and 
hands in the cool water. 

“ Some bathroom, eh? ” cried the Egg as he 
rubbed his clipped head vigorously with the towel. 

“ You bet it is ! ” replied Bob, looking up at 
the canopy of green leaves overhead and think- 
ing how different it was from the white-tiled 
bathroom at home. 

“ I suppose Old Four Eyes will start up the 
morning swim in a day or two, won’t he? ” asked 
the Egg. 

“ Yes, to-morrow, probably,” replied Fred. 

“ Morning swim ! ” exclaimed Bob. ** In the 
lake? ” 


40 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“Yep I A five minute dip before break- 
fast! Can’t be beaten for an appetizer,” said 
Fred. 

Bob’s eyes shone with delight. The cool water 
of the stream had washed the sleepy feeling away 
and he felt as fit as a fiddle. 

“ Come on,” cried Fred, “ we must beat it for 
breakfast. I’ll have to sound Mess.” 

Leaving their towels and soap in their tents 
they tumbled down the trail to the cook shack a 
hundred yards or so below the headquarters tent. 
Breakfast was not quite ready, but a score or so 
of hungry boys were lined up before the shack 
with tin plates and cups in their hands waiting 
for the mess call. They were noisy but good- 
natured, and poked fun at each other as they 
waited. Presently Jeff, the colored cook, stuck 
his head out of the door and called, “ Where de 
bugler? Tell ’im he kin call Mess.” Fred 
sounded the familiar call, a window in the side 
of the shack was opened, and the boys began fil- 
ing past, each receiving a helping of oatmeal, 
bread, butter, bacon, scrambled eggs and 
cocoa from Jeff and his two assistants. Passing 
on they sat down at the long tables in the mess 
tent or on logs, stumps or stones outside as 


THE FIRST DAY 


41 


they chose. Bob took his seat between Fred Ash- 
leigh and the Egg on a convenient log and at- 
tacked his breakfast with a hearty appetite. The 
food was good and well cooked, and Bob ate with 
a relish. “ Anything would taste good here,” he 
thought. 

While they were in the midst of breakfast Mr. 
McGregor appeared, and for the first time Bob 
had a good look at him. He was a powerfully 
built man, a little above middle height, with close- 
cropped brown hair, clean-cut features, clear 
gray eyes, and a firm jaw. He seemed quiet but 
observant. Bob noticed that the boys all seemed 
to like him. They treated him with respect but 
without formality. Bob was surprised when Mr. 
McGregor nodded to him and called him by 
name. 

“ I don’t see how he could remember my 
name,” said Bob. “ He never saw me before 
yesterday.” 

“ Oh! That’s one of Uncle’s stunts,” ex- 
plained the Egg. “ He knows the name of every 
boy in camp, and he never forgets.” 

“ That’s only one of his stunts, though,” said 
Fred. “ When you know him better you’ll find 
him a wonder.” 


42 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“ Is there to be Assembly this morning? ” 
asked the Egg. 

“ Yes,” replied Fred; “ Uncle told me to blow 
Assembly as soon as breakfast was over.” 

“ What’s Assembly? ” asked Bob. 

“ Wait and see,” said the Egg mj^steriously. 
“ Assembly in this camp is something rich and 
rare. It’s Sunday-school, church, a circus and 
a picnic all rolled into one. Uncle is some talker, 
take it from me. If you’ve done something you 
ought not to have done he’ll make you feel like 
the chief mourner at a funeral.” 

Fred smiled. “ He certainly has a wonderful 
way of getting the best out of a fellow — ^nothing 
mushy about him, either.” 

A few minutes later Bob had a chance to see 
for himself what Mr. McGregor was like at As- 
sembly. The boys all gathered under a wide- 
spreading yellow birch, and seated on a big stone, 
with his back to the tree, Mr. McGregor ad- 
dressed them. He spoke briefly but to the point. 
First he had all the boys stand and repeat the 
Scout Oath and the Scout Law. Then he told 
them that he expected them to model their con- 
duct on the Scout Law every day they were in 
camp. “ If you do this,” he said, “ there won’t 


THE FIRST DAY 


43 


be any trouble. You are here to have a good 
time, but you can’t have a good time if you think 
only of yourselves. You must remember the 
other fellow and not intrude on his rights. It is 
the mark of a gentleman, you know, to be con- 
siderate of others. You must remember, too, 
that there are certain camp duties to be per- 
formed every day, and that for the sake of every- 
body’s comfort it is important that these duties 
be done promptly, regularly, and cheerfully. A 
grumbler makes himself and everybody around 
him uncomfortable. We don’t want any grum- 
blers. Do your duties without complaint; that’s 
one of the first lessons for you to learn. 

“ Now before we begin to play we must get 
the camp completely settled. Those of you who 
didn’t get your tents pitched yesterday must at- 
tend to that first. Next we must have a supply 
of fire-wood for the camp-fire to-night. I shall 
appoint some boys to attend to that. Of course, 
the boys who were at the camp last year know 
pretty well what our routine is, but some of you 
are newcomers; so it will take several days to 
get things organized and the camp routine estab- 
lished. I want to remind you all that it is one 
of our first principles that every boy in this camp 


44 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

must do something each day to help pay his way. 
Every boy is expected to do some work for J eff 
to earn a meal ticket. So between now and 
eleven-thirty every boy must report for work at 
the cook shack. You won’t have to do anything 
very difficult, and it won’t take much time. It’s 
the principle that’s important. Now don’t for- 
get. No boy who hasn’t earned a meal ticket 
need expect any dinner.” 

Here the Egg grinned and winked at Bob. 

“ Now another point,” continued ]Mr. Mc- 
Gregor. “ One of the most important things is 
orderliness. You are expected to keep your tents 
neat and clean, your blankets carefully folded, 
and your belongings in your trunk or camp chest. 
Beginning to-morrow there will be inspection 
every morning by Mr. Bradley. Those who fail 
to maintain a reasonable degree of neatness in 
and about your tents will be penalized in one way 
or another. Other rules and regulations will be 
made from time to time as we get better settled 
and as the need for them arises. That is all this 
morning.” 

Bob was about to leave the Assembly when 
Mr. McGregor called his name. “ Fred Ash- 
leigh has spoken to me about you,” he said, “ and 


THE FIRST DAY 


45 


I’m very glad indeed that you decided to come 
up to the camp. You’ll find things very simple 
here, but I think that you will also find things 
interesting and, I hope, very helpful and inspir- 
ing. The Scout work is important, about the 
most important work for boys, I believe, that is 
being done anywhere to-day, and full of wonder- 
ful possibilities for the future manhood of our 
great country. The Boy Scout movement is not 
all play. It is a serious movement, carefully or- 
ganized and planned to develop manhood, to help 
the growing boy develop himself physically, 
mentally and morally in order to grow up in a 
way to realize his highest possibilities as a man. 
I hope that you will become so interested in what 
you see here in the camp that you will want to 
become a Scout. In case you do, I can put you 
in charge of a boy who will tell you how to pre- 
pare for your examinations and help you to pass 
them.” 

Here Mr. McGregor smiled and held out his 
hand. Bob took it cordially. The simple ear- 
nestness of the man had impressed him. He 
began to understand why the others liked him. 

“ Thank you very much,” he said. “ I’d like 
to think it over and then let you know.” 


46 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“Don’t hurry, Bob,” said Mr. McGregor. 
“ Things of this sort can’t be forced,” and with a 
smile he turned away. 

With the Egg’s help Bob got his expensive 
tent pitched. Nothing like it had ever been seen 
before in the Scout camp and it naturally excited 
great admiration. Some of the boys, however, 
laughed good-naturedly at it and one big fellow 
whom the boys called Dimples christened it The 
Greenhouse. 

“ Anyone would know you were Irish,” he 
remarked. 

“ But I’m not,” declared Bob stoutly. 

“ Oh, don’t be ashamed of it,” said Dimples. 
“ Green’s a fine color, and if I were you I’d make 
a good job of it. Stick up an Irish flag on top 
of The Greenhouse and sit up and play ‘ The 
Wearing of the Green ’ on a jew’s-harp every 
night after dinner.” 

Bob laughed. “ I’ll play if you’ll dance,” he 
said. 

After The Greenhouse had been properly 
pitched and his belongings arranged, it was time 
to report to the cook to earn his meal ticket. Bob 
found a dozen boys about the cook shack doing 
various small tasks. Some were shelling peas, 


THE FIRST DAY 


47 


others were peeling potatoes, and still others were 
bringing wafer from the spring. All performed 
their tasks cheerfully as a regular part of the 
routine. Jeff gave Bob a pan of potatoes to peel. 

“ Don’ cut de peelin’s too thick,” he warned. 
“ Some fellers des wastes half de pertaters.” 

Bob observed Jeff’s warning and peeled his 
potatoes carefully. When he had iinished a pan- 
ful he was free until dinner-time. 

So far he had not had a minute to try his canoe. 
He had left it yesterday afternoon lying bottom 
up under some trees by the shore. Now he felt 
was the time to try it. So he hurried along the 
path toward the lake. As he stepped up to take 
hold of one end of the canoe he noticed something 
move in the long grass. Thinking it was prob- 
ably only a frog, he bent over to lift the canoe 
and pu^h it into the water. Again the grass 
moved and then all at once he saw what it was. 
A small snake lay loosely coiled within a foot 
of him. Bob’s heart gave a great leap. For 
an instant he seemed paralyzed. Then came a 
reaction, and with a frightened yell he started to 
jump back. But the snake, probably quite as 
frightened as Bob, was quicker. In an instant 
he had struck. Bob was conscious of a sharp. 


48 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

stinging sensation in his right hand, and as he 
leaped back he saw two tiny bright red spots near 
his wrist. Thoroughly frightened, he yelled at 
the top of his lungs: “ Quick, quick! I’m bitten! ” 

It seemed to Bob an interminable time before 
anyone came. He had not the slightest idea 
what to do to help himself. There did indeed 
flash through his mind stories that he had heard 
of people who had been bitten by snakes, and he 
had a vague idea that the poison ought to be 
sucked from the wound. In reality it was not 
more than a minute before he was surrounded by 
a dozen boys all asking him what the matter was. 
Bob held out his hand. 

“ I’ve been bitten by a snake,” he gasped. “ I 
stooped to take hold of my canoe when it bit me.” 

He had hardly got the words out of his mouth 
before he was forced to the ground by a big red- 
haired boy who snatched a handkerchief from 
someone and proceeded to make a tourniquet 
about Bob’s forearm just above the wrist. Then 
to Bob’s dismay he whipped out a big pocket 
knife, and before Bob could protest he opened 
the wound made by the snake’s fangs and began 
to suck it. The other boys stood about breath- 
lessly looking on. 


THE FIRST DAY 


49 


By this time Mr. Bradley had come up. As 
soon as he saw what the matter was he sent a boy 
off on the run to tell Mr. McGregor. 

“ Do you know what kind of a snake it was? ” 
he asked. 

“ No,” answered Bob rather faintly. 

“ What did he look like? ” 

“ It all happened so quickly I hardly had time 
to see,” replied Bob. 

At this point Mr. McGregor came running up 
with a bottle of strong ammonia. He bathed the 
wound freely with it, using a piece of absorbent 
cotton. Bob cried out with pain as the ammonia 
touched him. 

“ Be a soldier, youngster,” said Mr. Mc- 
Gregor. “ This is to keep the poison from 
spreading. Now,” he said, when he had bathed 
the wound sufficiently, “ we must get you up to 
your tent. Can you walk? If not we’ll make an 
emergency stretcher for you.” 

Bob gritted his teeth. “ Of course I can walk,” 
he declared stoutly. 

Mr. McGregor looked at him keenly. Bob 
was rather pale. 

“ That’s the right spirit,” he said, “ but it won’t 
hurt you to have a little ride.” In reality the 


50 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

Commissioner was glad of an excuse to call on 
the boys for some real first-aid work. 

At a word from him, they soon improvised an 
emergency stretcher from a couple of poles with 
some coats buttoned over them. Placing Bob 
carefully on it two boys carried him up to his 
tent and laid him on his cot. 

An hour later a doctor in a village near by 
was summoned by telephone. When he arrived 
at the camp he found that all he had to do was 
to approve of everything that had been done for 
Bob. 

“ There’s nothing I can do for you, young 
man, that hasn’t been done,” he said, smiling and 
nodding at Mr. McGregor. “ These Scouts are 
spoiling my business,” he continued; “ they are 
such a healthy lot that they are never sick, and 
when one of them gets hurt his mates know just 
what to do for him. The next generation won’t 
need any doctors.” 

After leaving some medicine to be used in case 
of unfavorable developments and giving a few 
directions the doctor went away. 

The next morning Mrs. Hanson arrived at 
the camp in her motor car. She was rather 
frightened in spite of Mr. McGregor’s reassur- 


THE FIRST DAY 


51 


ing message over the telephone, and wanted to 
take Bob right home. But Bob would not listen 
to such a suggestion. 

“ I’m all right,” he declared. “ I haven’t had 
any fever at all since I was bitten. Mr. Mc- 
Gregor says that if I was going to have any 
trouble the signs would have appeared before 
now. He says that Reddy McTurk must have 
sucked out all the poison yesterday.” 

So Mrs. Hanson yielded. To Reddy Mc- 
Turk she was profuse in her praise. “ My dear 
boy,” she said, “ if there is anything in the world 
that I can do for you, let me know and I will 
gladly do it.” 

But Reddy only blushed and looked very much 
embarrassed. “ I don’t want any reward, Mrs. 
Hanson,” he said. “ Saving Bob from the snake 
will count as my good turn, you see.” 

Mrs. Hanson looked puzzled, and glanced 
at Mr. McGregor. 

“ A Scout is supposed to do somebody a good 
turn every day, and he is not expected to accept 
a reward for his services,” explained the Com- 
missioner. 

Mrs. Hanson’s eyes filled with tears. “ Well, 
if that is the spirit of the Scouts I shall be 


52 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

a proud mother on the day that my boy joins 
them,” she said. 

Mr. McGregor looked very serious and he 
cleared his throat before he spoke. Then he said 
quietly, “ Mrs. Hanson, the Scout movement 
is doing more for the boys of America than all 
other agencies put together.” 

“ I am beginning to believe you,” she said. 


CHAPTER V 


ON THE WAY TO BE A TENDERFOOT 

For several days the excitement caused by 
Bob’s adventure with the snake was the chief 
topic of conversation. Groups of boys organized 
searching parties, and the edge of the lake where 
the accident had occurred was thoroughly ex- 
amined. The snake had disappeared, however, 
and was never seen again by any of the boys. 

“ He didn’t like the taste of you. Bob,” said 
Reddy McTurk. “ So he left the neig'hborhood 
for good.” 

“ It’s lucky for him,” said the Egg. “ If he’d 
been caught he would have been cut up into 
mincemeat. Everybody in camp would have 
wanted a piece of his skin for a souvenir, and 
there wouldn’t have been a morsel for each fellow 
as big as a postage stamp.” 

“ Jeff says he doesn’t believe there was any 
snake,” said Fred. “ He was talking to me about 
it last night. ‘Ah tell you, suh ’ ” — ^here Fred 
63 


54 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

imitated the cook’s voice — “ ‘All don’ believe fer 
a minute dere was a snake. Des one er dem ghos’ 
snakes what Si Turtelotte hez killed fer de 
museums. He des skeered de boy outen spite. 
Yassir. Some snakes is des mean ’nough fer 
’at.’ ” 

Bob laughed. “ He was a pretty lively ghost,” 
he said. “ He had fangs, all right.” 

“ You ought to know. Bob,” agreed Fred. 

The boys had assembled at their favorite 
rendezvous, an enormous boulder on the hillside 
some distance above the camp-ground. By 
climbing part way up a small oak tree they could 
swing themselves over onto a wide, moss-covered 
shelf on the rock and from there scramble up to 
the top. The boulder was half as large as a 
small house, and the top commanded a magnifi- 
cent view. The ground fell off so abruptly in 
front that the outlook was unobstructed by trees, 
while behind, a group of tall oaks overshadowed 
the rock and afforded shade during the morning. 
Bob, Fred, Reddy McTurk and the Egg had 
found one another very congenial and had formed 
themselves into a “ gang.” They spent a good 
deal of time together, and when they wished to 
be by themselves they would frequently climb up 


A TENDERFOOT 


55 


to the Crow’s Nest, as they called the big boulder. 
Sprawled out on the springy moss that covered 
the rock they could read and write or talk to 
their hearts’ content. 

Bob had completely recovered from the shock 
of his encounter and had settled down into the 
life of the camp which was well organized and 
moved like clockwork. There was a regular rou- 
tine of work and play, skillfully interspersed 
under the guidance of Mr. IMcGregor and 
planned in such a way as to develop in the boys 
a sense of responsibility, at the same time afford- 
ing plenty of opportunity for relaxation and fun. 

The camp in one respect resembled a small 
city. The boys had elected a mayor, who acted 
under the general guidance of Mr. McGregor; 
there was also a chief of police whose purpose 
was to maintain order. The contest for mayor 
had been very keen but Fred Ashleigh had been 
elected by a safe majority. Tommy Fielder, the 
big first baseman of the Cedarville High School 
team, had been elected chief of police. Under 
these clear-headed and popular boys the activi- 
ties of the camp were well organized. 

Bob had been doing some hard thinking since 
Mr. McGregor spoke to him on the opening day. 


56 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

It was now the end of the first week and he was 
greatly impressed by the spirit of the boys and 
the order and discipline of the camp. The talks 
of the Commissioner at Assembly, the ideals he 
set before the boys, and the earnestness with 
which they tried to live up to these ideals stirred 
him strongly. He could not help comparing the 
atmosphere at the Scout camp with what he had 
seen the previous summer at a camp in the Cats- 
kills where he had spent a couple of days visiting 
a friend. In the Catskills the boys slept between 
sheets, and the care of the tents, the table service, 
and all other work was done by colored servants. 
The boys themselves did no work, but were ex- 
pected only to spend their time in amusement. 
As a result time often hung heavily on their 
hands and they got into mischief. Bob remem- 
bered some of the wild pranks they had played. 
They saw nothing wrong in breaking into the 
storeroom at night and stealing fruit and jam; 
and nobody was ever found out or punished for 
it. Once the headquarters tent had been set on 
fire and most of its contents were burned. Bob 
had taken no part in any of these pranks; in fact, 
he was rather amazed at them. Now as he sat 
on the rock he thought of them with disgust. 


57 


A TENDERFOOT 

How different that spirit was from the spirit at 
the Scout camp, where every fellow felt a sense 
of responsibility, and lived up to it, where every 
boy was placed on his honor and took pride in 
keeping his honor clean! 

Suddenly he jumped to his feet and without a 
word started to scramble down the side of the 
rock. 

“ Where you going. Bob? ” inquired Reddy in 
surprise. 

“ You’ll see,” replied Bob with a smile. “ I’ll 
be back in ten minutes.” 

“ I wonder where he’s going? ” asked Fred of 
the Egg, but for once the Egg had no suggestion 
to offer. 

Bob hurried to the headquarters tent, where 
he found Mr. McGregor writing a letter. At 
the Commissioner’s invitation he sat down on a 
bench. I’m glad to see you. Bob,” said Mr. 
McGregor. “ What can I do for you? ” 

“ I’d like to become a Scout,” replied Bob 
directly. 

“ Well, I’m very glad to hear that! You have 
been in camp long enough to get acquainted with 
the work. I’m pleased to know that you like it.” 
The Commissioner picked up a note-book and 


58 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

studied it a few moments. “ I shall put you 
under Fred Ashleigh’s care,” he continued. 
“ He will explain the requirements and help you 
prepare for them. The test for admission is not 
hard and I feel sure you will have little trouble.” 

“ I don’t intend to fail,” declared Bob. 

“ Good for you. That’s the proper spirit,” 
and Mr. McGregor placed his hand on Bob’s 
shoulder in a friendly manner. 

When Bob returned to the base of the rock his 
three friends were waiting for him. 

“ Tell us about it,” cried the Egg. “ Where 
did you go so suddenly? Must have been some- 
thing important.” 

Bob told the boys his decision as soon as he 
reached the top. 

“Say, that’s great!” exclaimed Fred. “I 
knew you’d want to join. You won’t make any 
mistake either, and you’ll be surprised to find the 
more you learn about scouting the more interest- 
ing it will become. We want you with us. Bob.” 

Reddy McTurk and the Egg were as pleased 
as Fred about it. All three boys took Bob in 
hand that afternoon. Enthusiastically they re- 
turned to the Crow’s Nest to give him his first 
lesson in knot tying. Bob found that he had 


A TENDERFOOT 


59 


much to learn. He knew the difference between 
a square knot and a granny, but what a clove 
hitch and a bowline were he had no idea. He 
made rapid progress, however, and by dinner- 
time he could tie all nine of the Imots called for 
in the Tenderfoot’s requirements. Better still, 
after dinner when Fred called on him to see if 
he remembered them, he was able to tie every 
knot correctly without a single false move. 

“ You’ll do for the knot tying,” said Fred. 
“ Now for the salute,” and he showed Bob how 
to hold up his hand to his hat with the thumb and 
the little finger crossed in front of the other three 
fingers. A little practice fixed the salute in his 
mind. Then came the hand grip. That, too, 
was soon mastered, and Bob was able to give the 
grip to the rest of the Gang and also salute them 
in the most approved style. 

“ Now we come to the high-brow stuff,” said 
the Egg. “ This knot-tying and saluting and 
hand-shaking are easy enough, but learning the 
Scout Oath and the Scout Law takes more 
brains.” 

“ That’s why the Egg can’t say the Scout Law 
yet without making mistakes,” said Fred, laugh- 
ing. 


60 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“ Don’t you believe him, Bob,” said the Egg. 
“ I can say it backward in my sleep.” 

“And while you’re awake, too,” said Fred. 
“ That’s just the trouble.” 

“Aren’t they a mean lot of fellows? ” asked 
the Egg, putting on an injured look. “ They 
never will give me credit for what I know. It’s 
nothing but envy, though.” 

Before it was time for the afternoon swim Bob 
could repeat the Scout Oath: “ On my honor I 
will do my best — to do my duty to God and my 
country, and to obey the Scout Law; to help 
other people at all times; to keep myself phys- 
ically strong, mentally awake, and morally 
straight.” 

The Scout Law was more difficult, and Bob 
spent several hours memorizing it. Before he 
went to bed that night, however, he repeated it 
to Fred without a mistake. 

“ You’re doing well,” said Fred. “ You’ll 
soon be ready for your initiation. You’ll get an 
invitation to ride the goat in a few days.” 

“ It’s some ride, too, believe me,” said the Egg. 
“A bucking bronco isn’t in it with the Scout 
goat.” 

Fred smiled reassuringly at Bob. “ Don’t let 


A TENDERFOOT 61 

them scare you, Bob,” he said. “ If the Egg 
pulled through I guess you can.” 

“Abusin’ me as usual,” said the Egg, making 
a face at Fred. “ It’s lucky for you that I’m so 
sweet tempered.” 


CHAPTER VI 


THE INITIATION 

In a few days Bob had met all the require- 
ments of a Tenderfoot to Fred’s' satisfaction. He 
could tie the nine knots, beginning with a square 
knot and ending with a timber hitch and two 
half hitches, one after another, rapidly and with- 
out the slightest mistake. He could tell the his- 
tory of the Flag and the customary forms of re- 
spect toward it. He could repeat the Scout 
Oath and the Scout Law, describe the signifi- 
cance of the badge and give the Scout Salute and 
the Scout Grip. He was ready for his initiation. 

Mr. McGregor believed in making the Tender- 
foot initiation impressive; accordingly he had 
worked out an interesting and dignified form of 
ceremony. One evening after supper the whole 
camp assembled in the little square in front of 
the headquarters tent. Chairs had been placed 
for Mr. McGregor and Mr. Bradley, but the 
boys sat wherever they could find room, some on 
62 


THE INITIATION 


63 


camp-chairs, some on empty boxes, and some on 
the ground. They formed a large circle about 
an unlighted camp-fire, the wood for which had 
been cut and brought in by Bob himself. There 
was no noisy talking and laughter that were 
common when the boys assembled about the usual 
evening camp-fire. To-night everybody seemed 
impressed by the seriousness of the occasion. 
They took their seats quietly and waited pa- 
tiently for Mr. McGregor to appear. 

Dusk was setting in when the Commissioner 
and his assistant took their seats. The beautiful 
ceremony of presenting the colors came first. 
Two boys walked forward, one bearing the Stars 
and Stripes, the other the Scout flag. All the 
Scouts stood at attention as the bugle played 
“ To the Colors.” The color-bearers then re- 
tired, and the Scouts seated themselves again. 
For a minute or two there was a pause; then Bob 
appeared accompanied by Fred. At a sign from 
Mr. INIcGregor Bob knelt before the fire. Hold- 
ing a piece of flint in his left hand, he struck it 
sharply with a bit of steel that he held in his 
right. The sparks flew out in showers against 
the handful of shredded cedar bark that lay on 
the ground. Bob snatched it up, and holding it 


64 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

carefully in both hands, blew upon it steadily. 
The tinder glowed and smoked. Then suddenly 
it burst into flame and he thrust it hastily under 
one edge of the camp-fire. The flames began to 
lick the wood, and the smoke rose in increasing 
volumes. In a few moments, with a loud crack- 
ling, the whole camp-fire was ablaze, and the glare 
lit up the faces of the boys and gilded the leaves 
of the trees behind them. Everyone sat in silence 
gazing into the fire. The flames leaped higher 
and higher, sending up showers of sparks that 
floated out in the air like fireflies. 

Presently Mr. McGregor stood up, and at a 
sign from him Bob stepped forward. The quiet 
of the dusk was broken only by the crackling of 
the camp-fire. Then Mr. McGregor’s voice rose 
firm and clear. 

“ Robert Hanson, you have completed the 
requirements for admission as a Tenderfoot to 
the Boy Scouts to the satisfaction of your spon- 
sor, and have presented yourself for initiation. 
Are you still resolved to take the Scout Oath? 
If not, this is your last opportunity to draw 
back.” 

“ I am ready to take the oath,” said Bob firmly. 

“ Do you imderstand what this oath means? ” 


THE INITIATION 


65 


‘‘ I do.” 

“ Raise your right hand and repeat the oath 
with me.” 

Raising his right hand, Bob repeated the oath 
with Mr. McGregor. 

“ On my honor I will do my best — to do my 
duty to God and my country, and to obey the 
Scout Law; to help other people at all times; to 
keep myself physically strong, mentally awake, 
and morally straight.” 

“ What are the twelve points of the Scout 
Law? ” 

“ A Scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, 
friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, 
thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent.” 

“We will now wait while you put on your uni- 
form.” 

Bob left the circle followed by Fred. He al- 
ready wore as much of the Scout uniform as he 
could get on under his every-day clothes. With 
Fred’s assistance it was a matter of only two or 
three minutes before he was able to get into full 
Scout uniform and reappear before Mr. Mc- 
Gregor. 

The Commissioner resumed the ceremony. 
“ You have now met the requirements for admis- 


66 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

sion into the Boy Scouts and have taken the 
Scout Oath. You have become a member of a 
great brotherhood. It is for you to conduct 
yourself in a way to make yourself a worthy 
member and to advance its usefulness in the 
world. This is a great responsibility, and I can- 
not urge upon you too strongly the importance 
of living up to it. I shall now proceed to invest 
you with the insignia of the brotherhood.” 

Holding out to Bob a Scout stalf, Mr. Mc- 
Gregor continued: 

“ I give you this staff to support your steps 
on your future journeys. It is a symbol of the 
support that your membership in the Scout order 
will be to you in your future life. It should 
guide and sustain you in times of trial, should 
assist you to keep your feet when weary and ex- 
hausted, and should help you to lift yourself up 
out of the dust and mire.” Mr. McGregor then 
handed Bob a canteen, saying, “ I give you this 
canteen filled with water, the symbol of a clean 
life. It has sprung sweet and pure from the 
depths of the earth. As your thirst is quenched 
by a draught of this water so let your spirit be 
refreshed by all pure influences.” 

Next he placed in Bob’s hands a knapsack. 


THE INITIATION 


67 


“ This knapsack is an emblem of the burden 
of responsibility which you are assuming as a 
Scout. It contains a first-aid package, as a sym- 
bol of your duty to help a fellow sufferer. It 
contains also a piece of bread to symbolize the 
food that you will carry to sustain your strength 
and to satisfy your hunger upon your journeys. 
Next I give you this axe as a symbol of service. 
Its blade is keen. See that it remains so. Do 
not let it become rusty through neglect or nicked 
through misuse. Keep it ever bright and shin- 
ing, and ever keen and sharp, ready for service. 
About your waist I place this belt. It is the 
symbol of chivalry. It stands for readiness in 
emergency and the will to do helpful service. In 
days of old the young knight was girded with a 
belt as he stood at the threshold of his career of 
service. So now I gird you for the service of 
the Scout brotherhood.” 

Bob stood straight and silent, knowing that all 
eyes were studying him closely. 

“And now I place upon your breast the badge 
which marks you before the eyes of the world as 
a member of the Scout organization,” continued 
the Commissioner. “ It is a sign of identifica- 
tion with the interest of a great order and its 


68 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

principles. Take pride in its possession. Look 
upon it as a mark of honor. Live worthily that 
you may deserve it. And finally I give you the 
grip, the hand-clasp of the brotherhood. It 
stands for good fellowship, friendship, fidelity, 
sincerity, and helpfulness.” 

Here Mr. McGregor paused for a few sec- 
onds; the stillness was unbroken except for the 
crackling of the camp-fire. Bob wondered if the 
ceremony was ended. 

“ I shall send you on a little journey,” said 
Mr. McGregor. “ Make the rounds of the camp 
circle and give the hand-clasp to every Scout 
present. When you have done that come back 
to me. Let this symbolize your journey through 
life and the assistance that you will give to, and 
receive from, your fellow travellers on this great 
journey.” 

Bob passed slowly round the camp-fire, shaking 
hands with every boy. He could see by the ex- 
pression on their faces that the words of the Com- 
missioner had impressed them as much as they 
had impressed him. He made the round without 
speaking and returned to his place. 

Mr. JMcGregor then continued: “ I welcome 
you to the membership in the Scouts. Keep 


THE INITIATION 


69 


your oath sacred, guide your life by the Scout 
Law and bear ever in mind the Scout motto. Be 
Prepared.” 

At a sign from Mr. McGregor the standard- 
bearers again came forward. They placed them- 
selves, one on each side of Bob, facing Mr. Mc- 
Gregor. The Commissioner raised his hand in 
salute. Everyone present did likewise. Then 
Retreat rang out in the still air from Fred Ash- 
leigh’s bugle. When the last echoes had died 
away, the color-bearers filed out again in silence. 
The initiation was over. Bob was a full-fledged 
Scout. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE EAID 

The day after his initiation Bob wrote to his 
mother, giving her a lengthy description of the 
ceremony. He received in return a long letter 
of congratulation and a promise of a substantial 
reminder of her love and good wishes. “ I shall 
send you a basket of good things to eat,” she said. 
The Gang were greatly excited at this news, and 
the next day when the “ goodies ” had arrived 
they skipped dinner at the mess tent and climbed 
up to the Crow’s Nest with the big basket from 
Mrs. Hanson. 

Besides the Gang there were Tommy Fielder, 
Chief of Police, Ralph Maxon, an Eagle Scout, 
and a great friend of Fred Ashleigh’s, “ Dim- 
ples,” and two or three other boys. 

There’ll be plenty of food,” Bob confided to 
Fred, “ and if we don’t make way with the stuff 
right off it will spoil; so we may as well invite as 
big a crowd as the Crow’s Nest will hold.” 

There was indeed plenty of food. The big 
70 


THE RAID 


71 


basket had all sorts of good things tucked inside. 
There was a fat, roasted chicken plumped out 
with stuffing, a delicious roasted ham, cold tongue, 
sardines, olives, and pickles, several kinds of pie 
and lots of fruit. The boys found the change 
from the camp fare very welcome and ate 
heartily. 

“ Gee, Bob, I hope you’ll have another initia- 
tion soon,” said the Egg, picking his second 
drumstick. The Egg had a weakness for drum- 
sticks and had secured the second and only one 
left by trading for it a fat piece of white meat 
with Tommy Fielder. 

I don’t see how I can manage that,” replied 
Bob, his mouth full of stuffing. “ Now that I’m 
a Tenderfoot, I feel like sitting back and enjoy- 
ing myself a little.” 

“ You have had a rather strenuous time since 
you’ve been at camp,” said Fred. “ With the 
snake and your training for your Tenderfoot 
exams you have been kept pretty busy.” 

I wish that fellow Riggs would open up a 
little,” said Reddy McTurk. “ He gets a basket 
of grub from home about twice a week, but he 
never asks anybody to help him eat it. Wonder 
how he can get away with it all himself? ” 


72 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“ He’s too mean to suit me,” said the Egg. 
“ He got a basket of fruit to-day, and I saw him 
beat it off into the woods all alone to eat it by 
himself.” 

“ He has no Scout spirit,” declared Reddy. 

“ He isn’t a Scout,” said Fred. “ His folks 
sent him up here hoping he would catch the 
spirit.” 

“We ought to help him catch it,” said Bob. 

“ He ought to be raided,” said the Egg. 

“ Here, here ! ” exclaimed Tommy Fielder. 
“ If you’re going to do any raiding I don’t want 
to know anything about it.” 

“ Oh, put some cotton in your ears, old Scout,” 
advised the Egg. “ You can’t hear us if we talk 
low.” 

The idea of raiding the Riggs boy met with 
general approval. Everyone agreed that he was 
mean. He had received several boxes of food 
and fruit since he had been at the camp, and 
everybody knew that he had not shared them with 
anyone else. 

“"He sure needs a lesson,” said Reddy thought- 
fully. 

“ Wliat time had we better give it to him?” 
asked the Egg. 


THE RAID 


73 


“ Why not do it during my watch to-night? ” 
asked Alec Thompson, one of the outsiders who 
had been invited to the spread. “ I’m on from 
two to three with young Freelands. I’ll wake 
3"Ou all up and we’ll go to it.” 

This suggestion met with instant favor, and 
plans were made immediately for the raid. 
Tommy Fielder left the Crow’s Nest before they 
had proceeded very far. As Chief of Police he 
did not care to know too much about the affair. 
The other boys, however, entered into the scheme 
with enthusiasm. The Riggs boy was certainly 
mean, and a lesson would do him good. After 
talking the matter over and arranging the details 
of the raid the party broke up. 

The evening passed in the usual manner. As 
dusk came on, the camp-fire was started and the 
boys gathered about it talking and telling stories. 
Mr. Bradley described a camping trip that he 
had taken in Labrador a year or two before, and 
Mr. McGregor added an account of some moun- 
tain climbing that he had done in British Colum- 
bia. At half-past nine Taps was blown, as 
usual, the night watch was posted, and silence 
crept over the camp. 

A little after two o’clock when everyone but 


74 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

the night watch was supposed to be sound asleep, 
the raiders stole quietly from their tents and met 
in the moonlight at a point some distance from 
the camp. Here they proceeded to black their 
faces with charcoal. Their own mothers could 
not have recognized them when they were fully 
disguised. 

“A minstrel troupe wouldn’t be in it with us,” 
said Reddy McTurk, grinning broadly in order 
to show his teeth. 

“ Riggsie will think he has the nightmare when 
he wakes up and sees us,” whispered the Egg 
with delight. 

“ It will serve him right for eating so much. 
He deserves to have stomach ache,” said 
Reddy. 

“ Well now,” asked Fred, “ are you all sure 
that you remember just what to do? ” 

“ Sure,” was the reply in low chorus. 

“ All right, then, come on! Don’t make any 
unnecessary noise.” 

They filed stealthily down to the camp. For- 
tunately for their purpose the Riggs boy’s tent 
was on the outer edge of the camp next to the 
woods. They found it without difficulty. The 
occupant was sound asleep. A brief search re- 



• ( 


> > 


BRING THE PRISONER BEFORE ME. 







THE RAID 75 

vealed the fruit they were looking for, and two 
of the boys took this in charge. 

The other boys pulled young Riggs out of bed 
and before he could make a sound stuffed a towel 
into his mouth. Then quickly tying his arms be- 
hind his back they led him quietly from the tent. 
The whole thing was done in a few minutes with 
very little noise and no struggle. 

A few minutes later they reached their rendez- 
vous in the woods. Fred Ashleigh climbed up 
on a big stump that stood in the middle of the 
little clearing where they were assembled and 
waved his arms with simulated fierceness. 

“ Bring the prisoner before me,” he com- 
manded in an unnatural voice. 

The scared boy with a guard on each side of 
him was dragged forward. He wore a bathrobe 
over a suit of pajamas, and his captors had been 
thoughtful enough to place a pair of slippers on 
his feet. 

“ You are accused of being a hog,” said Fred, 
“ and I am informed that witnesses are present 
to support the accusation. We will listen to the 
testimony. Who is the first witness? ” 

At this, Reddy McTurk stepped forward and 
made a low bow. 


76 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“ Your High Mightiness,” he said, “ I can tes- 
tify truthfully that the prisoner before you has 
more than once received by the bus boxes and 
baskets containing eatables of various sorts, and 
that he has privately consumed said eatables 
without offering to share them with his worthy 
companions at the camp. Such conduct indi- 
cates a most terrible selfishness and is surely con- 
trary to the spirit of the camp. I recommend 
that he be given some punishment suitable to the 
gravity of his offense.” 

Here Reddy stepped back. 

“ Gosh! Where did Reddy get all those big 
words? ” whispered Ralph Maxon to Bob. 

“Silence there!” said Fred sternly. “Are 
there other witnesses? ” 

The Egg stepped forward. “ I can testify 
that on one occasion at least the accused has re- 
ceived a watermelon and that he tried to eat it 
in the privacy of his tent. I understand that 
some of this watermelon spoiled before the pris- 
oner was able to eat it himself. Think of it, gen- 
tlemen — spoiled ! It is an outrage that a water- 
melon should have gone to waste in a camp 
of hungry boys. If I had been called in to 
the prisoner’s assistance, I am sure that I 


THE RAID 77 

could have prevented that watermelon from 
spoiling.” 

“ So could I! So could I!” shouted several 
voices. 

“ Silence! ” commanded Fred. 

One or two other boys added their testimony 
to that of Reddy and the Egg. The judge shook 
his head. “ This looks bad,” he said. “ Remove 
the gag from the prisoner’s mouth.” 

When the towel had been removed he again 
addressed the prisoner. “ What have you to say 
in your defense? ” he asked. 

There was no reply, and Fred repeated the 
question several times. Still the Riggs boy re- 
mained silent. 

“ If you have no defense to make,” declared 
Fred, after vainly trying to extract an answer, 
“ I shall have to assume that you are guilty. I 
therefore decree that as punishment you shall be 
condemned to stand by while your fruit is being 
devoured by those with whom you have self- 
ishly refused to share it. Gag him again,” he 
added. 

The prisoner was gagged and made to sit on 
the ground. Then the boys divided the fruit and 
ate it all with great relish. There was half a 


78 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

watermelon, a dozen oranges, and a number of 
bananas and apples. It was a great feast. The 
night was warm and the full moon made it almost 
as light as day. The boys sat grouped about 
their prisoner and ate the fruit in high spirits. 

“ Well,” said Fred at last, “ we’ve eaten every- 
thing, and it is getting late. Suppose we beat it 
for camp.” 

“ We must decorate the prisoner first,” said 
Reddy. 

“ Oh, sure I I had forgotten that,” said Fred. 

The prisoner was now jerked upon his feet and 
the boys proceeded to decorate him with the re- 
mains of the feast. Grinning gleefully Fred 
dug the pulp from the end of the watermelon and 
fashioned a cap for the unlucky boy. Fastened 
under the chin with a shoestring and tilted jaun- 
tily on one side, it made the prisoner look like an 
idiot. At sight of him the boys howled with sup- 
pressed laughter, and the Egg rolled on the 
ground holding his sides. 

“ Isn’t that the swell cap, though? ” he said. 
** Looks like one of those trench helmets, doesn’t 
it? ” And he rolled over and over on the ground 
in a fit of laughter. 

“ Shut upl ” said Fred. “ You’re making too 


THE RAID 79 

much noise. They’ll hear you way down at the 
camp.” 

“ He ought to have some kind^ of necklace,” 
said Reddy McTurk; “ something like what the 
Indian chiefs wear, you know, eagles* feet and 
junk like that.” 

“ Sure thing I ” chorused the crowd; and in the 
course of a few minutes a wonderful necklace of 
apple cores and orange peelings had been strung 
on another shoestring and tied round the victim’s 
neck. Then followed bracelets and a belt made 
in the same way. When this was done the boys 
stood off to admire their handiwork. Again they 
shouted with laughter. 

Bob felt a pang of pity as he looked at the 
prisoner. Then remembering how selfish and 
disagreeable the fellow had been, and how he had 
failed to grasp the spirit of the camp, he realized 
that the boy was probably getting just the sort 
of medicine he needed. 

“Well now,” said Fred, “I guess we’ve 
done everything we can do to make him look 
pretty.” 

“ Hold on I ” called Ralph Maxon. “’I’m mak- 
ing something for him. He needs a badge, you 
see,” and he came forward with a strip of water- 


80 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT. 

melon rind on which he had carved with his knife 
the word, Pig. 

“ There! ” he said, after he had adjusted it so 
that it hung across the prisoner’s breast. “ That 
gives the final touch.” 

“ Now, fellows,” said Fred, “ we must be care- 
ful. We want to put this business through right. 
Don’t forget instructions. We don’t want any- 
one to see this fellow till morning. Therefore we 
must be quiet. Forward march 1 ” 

Filing noiselessly back through the woods the 
boys reached Riggs’ tent. Placing his camp 
chest in front of it, they seated him upon it with 
his back to the pole and fastened him there se- 
curely. 

“There!” said Fred. “I guess he’ll be all 
right till somebody discovers him. It’s begin- 
ning to get light now.” 

The dawn was indeed breaking. The eastern 
sky was showing red through the trees, and the 
birds were beginning to sing. After a last look 
and a silent laugh at their victim, the boys stole 
back to their tents. The raid was over. 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE INTESTIGATION 

Bob and Fred slept later than usual next 
morning. In fact, when the time for Reveille 
came Fred was deep in slumber. Many of the 
boys were awake, however, and the sound of low 
voices issued from several tents. Bob was roused 
by Mr. Bradley’s voice. The Scoutmaster was 
standing at the open door of Fred’s tent. 

“ Hello ! ” he called. “ Where’s our bugler 
this morning? It’s twenty minutes to seven.” 

Fred had to be shaken before he was fully 
awake. Then he jumped up and, running out in 
his pajamas, blew Reveille. The usual chorus 
of yawns and gnmts and calls came from the 
tents. Then suddenly a shout louder than all 
the others caught Bob’s ears. 

“Well, what do you know? Look who’s 
here! ” 

“ Hey, fellows! Come quick! ” 

“ What’s up? ” 


81 


82 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“ Gee whizz! Did you ever? ” 

There was a general hubbub, then a roar of 
laughter. Fred sauntered up to the door of 
Bob’s tent, bugle in hand. “ They’ve just dis- 
covered Riggs,” he whispered. 

At that moment Reddy McTurk appeared. 
‘“Let’s go over and see how he looks by daylight,” 
he said. 

Strolling over to Riggs’ tent they found half 
the camp assembled in front of it. Peal after 
peal of laughter rose as the boys examined the 
luckless Riggs. 

“ Hey, Riggsie, where were you last night? ” 
“ Out riding a nightmare. I’ll bet! ” 

“ Must have been a bucking bronco! ” 

“More likely he was out on a trench raid! 
Look at his helmet! ” 

“ Gosh ! How the Germans did him up ! ” 

“ Gee ! Look at the necklace ! ” 

“Hey! See the badge! ” 

“ Say, Riggsie, what does PIG spell? ” 

In the midst of the excitement Bob heard Mr. 
McGregor’s voice. “ What’s up, boys? ” 
Instantly there was a hush and the boys looked 
at each other wondering what the Commissioner 
would say. Mr. McGregor pushed his way 


THE INVESTIGATION 


83 


through the crowd until he reached Riggs. 
“ W^ll, you are pretty well trussed up,” he said, 
as he proceeded to release the prisoner. It was 
the work of only a minute or two to remove the 
gag and untie the boy. 

“ That’s all, boys,” said Mr. McGregor, 
“ there’s nothing more to see. Mr. Bradley is 
waiting to put you through your setting up ex- 
ercises, I know.” 

The boys dispersed, laughing and talking, and 
were soon going through their morning exercises. 

Needless to say, Riggs was in a rage. He 
wasn’t the least bit hurt, except as to his feelings. 
The night had been warm, and he had not been 
too uncomfortable to doze a little. But he felt 
that he had been mistreated and complained 
loudly to Mr. McGregor, demanding that his as- 
sailants be foimd and punished. 

Mr. McGregor listened calmly to his angry 
words, and when he had become somewhat quieter 
said, “ Well, Riggs, the proper thing for you to 
do is to complain to the Chief of Police. Give 
him the facts in the case and any evidence that 
you think will help to run down the guilty boys. 
He will investigate the matter and hold a public 
hearing, if necessary.” 


84 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“ But aren’t you the boss of this camp? ” de^ 
manded Riggs impatiently. 

“ Yes,” replied Mr. McGregor, “ but I am 
trying to teach you boys to govern yourselves. 
That’s why you have a Mayor and a Chief of 
Police. I leave it to the officers that you, your- 
selves, have elected to dispose of the camp busi- 
ness as far as possible. I shall not interfere un- 
less I find it necessary to do so.” 

“ Well, I’m going to have justice,” declared 
Riggs. 

“ Yes, of course, you are going to have jus- 
tice,” said Mr. McGregor. “ You needn’t worry 
about that. Perhaps you have already had it,” 
he added with a smile. 

Riggs strode away fuming, but after he had 
washed his face and hands in the cool, refreshing 
water of the brook, his rage abated somewhat. 
A good breakfast of bacon and eggs made him 
feel still better. His rage was prevented from 
dying out entirely, however, by the grins with 
which the other boys greeted him whenever he 
appeared. Nor did they stop at grins. 

“ What does PIG spell? ” one boy would ask 
another. 

“ Riggs,” would be the prompt reply, and then 


THE INVESTIGATION 85 

everybody within hearing would shout with 
laughter. 

Riggs, of course, could not see the humor of it 
at all. It was an outrage ! He would have jus- 
tice! So he clung to his determination to run 
down the gang that had raided him and have 
them punished. Accordingly, after breakfast he 
hunted up Tommy Fielder, whom he found shak- 
ing out his blankets and tidying up his tent for 
morning inspection. 

“ I’ve got a complaint to make,” he said with 
a scowl. 

“ Is that so? ” questioned Tommy, with appar- 
ent surprise. “ Suppose we sit down,” he sug- 
gested hospitably, drawing up a couple of camp- 
chairs. “ Now, what’s on your chest? ” he asked. 

Tommy’s innocent words reminded Riggs of 
the badge that he had worn on his bosom during 
the night. The word “ Pig ” rose vividly before 
his mind’s eye. The tide of his rage rose also. 

“ Well,” he said, “ I suppose you’ve heard how 
I was raided last night.” 

Tommy nodded. “ Yes,” he said, “ the whole 
camp has heard.” 

“ I want you to catch the fellows that did it 
and give ’em what they deserve.” 


86 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“ Have you any idea who did it? ” 

Riggs hesitated. He had some suspicions, but 
no proofs. “ Oh, of course, I’m not sure.” 

“ But do you suspect anyone? ” 

“ Well, yes, I think Reddy McTurk was one 
of ’em.” 

“ What makes you think so? ” 

Riggs hesitated again. He didn’t like to say 
that it was because Reddy had strolled by his tent 
one day and found him eating a watermelon all 
by himself and that in spite of Reddy’s hints he 
had not invited him to eat any of it. So he said 
lamely: 

“Well, Reddy McTurk is a rough kind of 
fellow, just the sort of chap to do a mean 
thing.” 

The Chief of Police eyed Riggs keenly. “ I’m 
afraid you don’t know Reddy very well,” he said. 
“ Haven’t you anything more definite against 
him than that? ” 

Riggs was compelled to admit that he had not. 

“ Well,” said Tommy, “ I can’t arrest him on 
mere suspicion.” 

Angry though he was, Riggs had to admit the 
justice of the Chief’s remark. 

“ You ought to have some detectives,” he said. 


THE INVESTIGATION 87 

“ so that you could put them on the job and let 
them run the business down.” 

“ I have some detectives,” said Tommy calmly. 

Riggs started. He had spoken at random. 
He had never supposed that there were really 
any detectives in camp. 

“Well, why not put them on the job?” he 
asked. 

“ I will,” said the Chief. “ If you will come 
to see me to-morrow morning about this time I 
will talk with you again and tell you what I have 
found out about the case.” 

Riggs felt relieved. He began to feel that 
after all there was a chance of getting even with 
his assailants. 

“All right,” he said, “ I’ll come around to- 
morrow morning.” 

After Riggs had gone Tommy Fielder looked 
up Spotty Dunn, his head detective, and told him 
about the interview with Riggs. Spotty grinned. 

“ What do you want me to do about it? ” he 
asked. “ I have a pretty good idea now who 
raided him, and if I try very hard I guess I could 
find out every fellow who was in on the job.” 

“ Well,” said the Chief thoughtfully, “ I think 
what you had better do is this: find out how the 


88 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

fellows feel about theraid,whether they take sides 
with Riggs or with the raiders. See if they think 
Riggs got what was coming to him. If he did, 
I’m not going to make trouble for anybody. My 
private opinion is that Riggs is a pretty mean 
sort and that he deserved every bit that he 
got.” 

“ I think you’re dead right,” said Spotty, 
“ and I feel the same way myself. If I find any- 
thing on the other side I’ll let you know.” 

Next morning when Riggs appeared at 
Tommy Fielder’s tent he was still feeling in- 
jured, but his anger had cooled a great deal. 

“ Well,” he said, “ did your detectives find out 
anything? ” 

“ Yes, a lot,” replied Tommy. 

“ Ah, that’s good,” said Riggs, slapping his 
knee. “ Did they find out who the raiders 
were? ” 

“ They know pretty well who they were.” 

“ Ha ! I hope you’ll soak ’em.” 

“Well, I don’t know that they ought to be 
soaked,” replied Tommy quietly. 

Riggs looked up quickly. “ You don’t? 
What do you mean by that? ” 

“Well, I’ll tell you, Riggs,” said the Chief 


THE INVESTIGATION 


89 


slowly. “ This is the way I look at it. You’ve 
been at this camp now for more than three weeks, 
and every three or four days you’ve had a basket 
or a box of food of some kind sent up to you. 
But so far as I’ve been able to find out you 
haven’t offered to share any of your stuff with a 
single fellow in camp. Now, under the circum- 
stances, I’m not surprised that the fellows raided 
you. I think it served you right. If you had 
shown a more generous spirit, nobody would have 
thought of bothering you for a minute. Per- 
haps that sounds a little blunt to you, but I’m 
speaking right out just what I think. My ad- 
vice to you is to say nothing more about this raid 
and to turn over a new leaf. When you get 
something good, don’t be stingy about it ; pass it 
round. You want to enjoy yourself at camp, 
don’t you? You want to have the good-will of 
the rest of the fellows — — ” 

“ Of course I do,” interrupted Riggs. “ I’d 
give anything to be as popular as Fred Ash- 
leigh.” 

“ Well, you’ve got to be generous if you want 
to be popular. You can’t get anjdhing that’s 
worth while without giving something in return. 
Just think that over.” 


90 BOB HANSON, TENDEBFOOT 

For a moment nothing more was said. The 
Chief of Police waited for his caller to leave. 
But Riggs sat silent on his camp-stool, appar- 
ently lost in thought. Then suddenly, to the 
Chief’s surprise, the boy rose and held out his 
hand. 

“ Say,” he said, “ let’s shake. I guess you’re 
right about this business. You see, I’ve always 
lived with three old maid aunts and never have 
been much with other boys. I’m not used to ’em, 
I guess. And I sure don’t want to be called 
mean by anybody.” 

Tommy took the hand that Riggs held out to 
him, almost too surprised to speak. “ Well,” he 
managed to say at length, “ we’d all better forget 
about it, I guess. You’ve had your lesson and it 
has done you good. That was what the raid was 
for.” 

“ I nearly had heart failure at Riggsie’s sud- 
den turn-about,” he confided later, as he was 
telling the story to the Gang. They, too, were 
quite as astonished as Tommy. 

“ Perhaps he’ll turn out to be a decent fellow, 
after all,” said Bob. 

“ The camp will make a man of him if any- 
thing can,” said Fred. 


THE INVESTIGATION 


91 


** Well, I’m glad we raided him before he got 
converted,” said Reddy McTurk. 

“Amenl” exclaimed the Egg, 


CHAPTER IX 


AN ADVENTURE WITH A PORKY 

Bob had now been at the Scout camp nearly 
three weeks and had been hardly more than a 
mile away from the lake. He had not felt con- 
fined or limited in any way, however, because 
there was so much to do at the camp. He found 
the companionship of the boys, especially that of 
the Gang, so delightful that he never felt the 
need of leaving the camp for any length of time. 
A considerable part of each day was filled with 
duties that were not irksome, and there were 
many things to keep him amused. There were 
the regular morning and afternoon swims that he 
always looked forward to with pleasure; there 
was generally a paddle on the lake, and perhaps 
a race with one of the other boys ; and there was 
always sure to be a game or a walk to one of the 
many “ lookouts ” on the neighboring hills. He 
was never bored. 

One night after supper, as Bob was sitting 
before the camp-fire waiting for the regular even- 
92 


AN ADVENTURE 


93 


ing exercises to begin, Mr. McGregor asked him 
if he cared for trout fishing. 

“ Yes, indeed,” said Bob; “ I’ve done a good 
deal of it in the Adirondacks.” 

“ Well, then, why don’t you make up a little 
party and go over to Bog Brook fishing some 
day? ” 

“ I should certainly like to ! ” exclaimed Bob. 

Mr. ^IcGregor got out a map and showed him 
the location of the brook. From the head of the 
lake there was an old wood road that led to within 
a mile or so of the head-waters. F rom that point 
an easy walk through the woods would bring 
them out into a meadow through which the brook 
ran. It would make a fine outing. They could 
take lunch with them and stay all day. 

“ The trout are small,” he said, “ and at this 
time of the year you probably won’t find many, 
but you ought to catch a fair-sized string, and 
you’ll have lots of fun whether you catch many 
fish or not. Another thing, the brook is small 
and pretty well overgrown with bushes; so I 
wouldn’t advise you to try and fish with flies. 
Better dig some worms down behind the cook 
shack. You’ll catch more fish with them and 
run less risk of breaking your rod,” 


94 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

Bob’s interest grew keener the more he thought 
about the trip and he was eager to go the next 
day, if possible. To this Mr. McGregor made 
no objection. “ Make an early start,” he sug- 
gested. “ The earlier you get to the brook the 
better fishing you’ll have. I’ll speak to Jeff so 
that he’ll have something for you to eat an hour 
before the regular breakfast. Better make all 
your arrangements to-night.” 

The Gang shared Bob’s enthusiasm when he 
told them about the proposed trip, and hastened 
to secure Mr. McGregor’s permission. They 
spent the evening getting their tackle ready and 
discussing plans. They were up next morning 
long before Reveille and ate a hasty breakfast 
that Jeff had prepared for them. Next they 
dug a tin pepper box full of worms. They had 
decided to paddle up to the head of the lake. Bob 
and Fred in one canoe, and Reddy and the Egg 
in another. Then they would leave the canoes 
on the shore and walk over to the brook. 

The sun was just beginning to show above the 
ridge to the east of the lake when they stepped 
into the canoes. It promised to be a perfect day. 
The tops of the hills and their slopes were in the 
full sunshine, but the lake itself was still in the 


AN ADVENTURE 95 

shadow as they paddled briskly away from the 
camp. 

“ It’s going to be a peach of a day I ” exclaimed 
Fred. 

“You’re right,” agreed Bob. “We’ll have 
the time of our lives.” 

Bob’s canoe was in the lead, with Fred at the 
bow paddle and Bob at the stem. Reddy and 
the Egg followed several yards behind. 

“ There’s Daddy-long-legs,” said Bob, point- 
ing to a tall, long-legged blue heron that stalked 
along the shore a hundred yards off. 

“ Looking for his breakfast,” said Fred. “ Be- 
tween the pickerel and the herons it’s a wonder to 
me that there are any frogs at all in the lake.” 

“ What’s that on the end of that tree that 
hangs out over the water? ” asked Bob. 

“ Where? ” 

Bob pointed to a dead tree that had fallen near 
the shore. The bank was several feet high at 
that particular point, and the tree trunk pro- 
jected out over the water. At the very end of 
the trunk was a queer-looking mass that might 
have been almost anything. 

“ Looks as if it might be some kind of an ani- 
mal. Let’s take a closer view,” suggested Fred. 


96 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

Turning the canoe, they paddled over to the 
shore. As they came nearer the end of the log, 
the dark mass looked more and more like an 
animal. 

“ What the dickens can it be? asked Bob. 

Fred had been observing it closely, and as the 
canoe came within a dozen feet or so of the 
strange object he exclaimed in surprise. “ Well, 
I never ! Do you know what it is ? It’s a porcu- 
pine curled up fast asleep.” 

Closer inspection proved that Fred was right. 
A plump porcupine, bristling with white quills 
and looking much like a huge chestnut burr, had 
rolled himself up on the very end of the tree and 
gone fast asleep. There he lay on the log three 
or four feet above the water oblivious to the boys’ 
presence. 

Seeing Fred and Bob paddle over to the shore, 
Reddy and the Egg stopped paddling and the 
Egg called out, “ What’s up? ” 

In answer. Bob pointed at the “ porky.” 
Reddy and the Egg paddled over and joined 
the party of investigation. 

“Gee whizz!” exclaimed the Egg. “That’s 
the first time I ever saw anything like that.” 

“ He’s probably going to have a morning 


AN ADVENTURE 97 

plunge when he wakes up, just as we do,” said 
Reddy. 

“ I’d like to see him take a high dive,” laughed 
the Egg. “ What’s the matter with pushing him 
off?” 

“ Better let him alone,” Fred warned him. 

“ Yes,” said Bob. “We must go along.” 
And he sent the canoe ahead with a vigorous 
stroke of his paddle. They had not gone far, 
however, when they heard a shout from the boys 
in the other canoe. Looking back they saw that 
Reddy and the Egg were greatly excited. They 
were yelling and flourishing their paddles wildly. 

“ What’s the matter? Have you gone crazy? ” 
shouted Fred. 

Neither Reddy nor the Egg deigned to answer 
this question. They continued to yell and flour- 
ish their paddles excitedly. Looking more 
closely, Fred and Bob could see that Reddy and 
the Egg were greatly interested in something in 
the canoe. They poked and struck at it repeat- 
edly. Turning their canoe Fred and Bob pad- 
died back quickly, and as they drew near the 
other canoe a strange sight met their eyes. In 
the veiy middle of the boat was the frightened 
porcupine, his quills standing straight up. One 


98 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

moment he would crawl toward Reddy, who 
would yell and poke him with the paddle; then 
the frightened animal would turn slowly and 
start to crawl back in the opposite direction, and 
the Egg would yell and strike at him with his 
paddle. 

Bob and Fred burst into loud laughter. “ Be 
gentle with him, Reddy,” shouted Bob. “A 
Scout is kind, you know.” 

“ Oh, shut up ! ” yelled the disgusted Egg. 

“ Why not bring him along for bait? ” sug- 
gested Fred. 

“ Come and get him if you want him,” called 
Reddy. “ You’re welcome to him.” 

“ Who wished him on you? ” shouted Fred. 

“ The Egg, of course,” called Reddy. “ He 
insisted on poking him, and somehow the canoe 
swung round and the porky fell into it.” 

Fred went into another fit of laughter. Just 
then, the porcupine, that had been quiet for a few 
seconds, started to shamble along the bottom of 
the canoe toward the Egg. The Egg struck at 
him with his paddle, but it hit the gunwale, 
slipped from his hands and fell overboard. The 
“ porky ” continued to shamble toward him. 

“ Get out of here, you brute,” he yelled, hold- 


AN ADVENTURE 


99 


ing on to each side of the canoe and kicking at 
the advancing “ porky.” 

“ Say * please * to him. A Scout is courteous, 
you know,” suggested Bob. 

Here Fred went off into another uncontrol- 
lable fit of laughter. 

“Heh! Reddy! Stop him, can’t you? He’s 
coming right at me ! ” yelled the Egg. 

Thus appealed to, Reddy half rose and reached 
forward in an attempt to scoop the porcupine out 
of the canoe with his paddle. His intentions 
were good but his judgment was bad. In his 
excitement he threw the canoe out of balance. 
Flip! In an instant Reddy, the Egg, and the 
porcupine were all floundering together in the 
water. At this sight Fred dropped his paddle 
and fell over backwards in the bottom of Bob’s 
canoe shrieking with laughter. 

I’ll bet the porcupine will beat them to the 
shore,” he said when he could recover his breath. 

Fred was right. The frightened porcupine 
was the first ashore. He climbed up the steep 
bank and crawled off into the woods. Reddy 
and the Egg clambered up the bank, the water 
dripping from their hair and clothes, disgust 
written on their faces. 


100 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT^ 

“ Well, I guess this ends our fishing trip for 
to-day,” said Reddy ruefully. 

“ You don’t catch me going back to camp in 
this condition,” said the Egg. “We should 
never hear the last of it.” 

“ But what else can we do? ” asked Reddy. 
“We can’t tramp round all day in wet clothes.” 

“ We can build a fire and dry them, anyway,” 
replied the Egg. 

After some discussion this was what the un- 
fortunate boys decided to do. To return to camp 
in their present condition was too humiliating to 
be considered. Fred and Bob retrieved the 
canoe, which was floating out in the lake half 
filled with water, and it was drawn ashore and 
emptied. Then a big fire was built, and the two 
boys took off their clothes and hung them up on 
stakes before the blaze. 

“ Hey, look at this ! ” said the Egg, holding 
up his dripping haversack that he had fished out 
of the canoe. It had contained a package of 
Aunt Jemima’s pancake flour which, reduced to 
a white, soupy mixture resembling whitewash, 
was now smeared all over it. “ That was to have 
been my lunch.” 

“ Serves you right, Eggie, for being mikind to 


AN ADVENTURE 


101 


animals. If you hadn’t disturbed the dreams of 
that porky we should all be up at the other end 
of the lake by this time, safe and sound and clad 
in our right minds,” said Fred. 

The Egg was too disgusted to reply. 

“ Well, so long! ” called Fred. “ You know 
where we are going, and if you get dried out in 
time you’d better come along after us.” 

He and Bob pushed olf their canoe and pad- 
died up the lake, leaving their disconsolate chums 
sitting naked before a fire drying their clothes. 


CHAPTER X 


A QUEEE FISH 

Bob and Fred reached the head of the lake 
without further incident and, leaving their canoe 
there, set out for Bog Brook. Their way led 
along an old wood road that climbed up a ravine 
to the summit of a notch between two hills and 
then down the slope on the other side and on to 
a beautiful meadow knee-deep in lush grass and 
sprinkled with clusters of red Canada lilies. 

“ Did you ever see anything more beautiful 
than this in the Adirondacks? ” asked Fred, as 
they stopped for a moment to admire the beauty 
of the little vale that was opening before them. 

“ I never did,” confessed Bob, shaking his 
head. “ This certainly is a great country.” 

“ It’s a fine place for deer,” said Fred. “ I 
shouldn’t be surprised if we saw one.” 

Walking with as little noise as possible and 
speaking only in low tones, in order not to scare 
102 


A QUEER FISH 103 

any game that might be in the meadow, they 
went on to the brook. It was only a small 
stream, in some places almost hidden by close- 
growing alder bushes, in others widening out into 
broad, deep pools. In the pools they found a 
few trout. They were small, as Mr. McGregor 
had said they would be, but they were trout, and 
that meant a good deal. 

“ I never could understand how a man could 
sit for hours on the bank of a canal and fish for 
catfish,” said Bob. “ To me, catfish belong in 
the same class with snakes and lizards. They 
don’t seem like real fish to me. Now these little 
speckled beauties are different.” He held up for 
Fred’s inspection a trout that he had just caught. 
Its sides were decorated with spots of red, yellow 
and blue, and its fin tips and belly were a beauti- 
ful salmon pink. 

They had fished along the brook for some time 
with fairly good luck when suddenly Bob felt a 
tremendous tug on his line. “ Whew! ” he said 
to himself, “ I guess I’ve got a big one this time.” 

When he tried to pull in his fish, however, he 
began to think that he must have caught his hook 
in a snag. But it seemed to move, though ever 
so little, and he looked over the edge of the bank 


104 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

cautiously, yet eagerly, wondering whether it 
really was a fish on his hook. Yes, surely it 
moved. He drew his line in toward the shore. 
Then as he looked down at the water he saw a 
queer reptile-like head emerge. What was it? 
He pulled steadily and carefully. A speckled 
black and yellow neck followed the head, then the 
beginning of a body. 

“ Hey, Fred! ” he called. “ Come over here 
quick.” 

Fred came plunging through the deep meadow 
grass. “ What’s the matter? ” he asked. 

“ I’ve caught something big and I don’t Imow 
quite what. Look and see what it is. It feels 
like a whale.” 

Fred looked curiously down into the pool. 
“ Why, Bob,” he cried, “ you’ve hooked a big 
turtle.” 

“ A turtle! ” echoed Bob incredulously. 

“Sure thing!” said Fred. “And he’s a 
buster.” 

In order not to break the rod they both took 
hold of the line and carefully tried to pull the 
turtle toward the bank. Little by little they 
drew him further out of the water. Soon they 
could see several inches of the big oval shell. 


105 


A QUEER FISH 

Then all at once, as if displeased with the taste of 
the hook, the turtle opened his mouth. There 
was a c-r-a-t-c-h, — out came the hook, — a plop, 
and the turtle dropped back into the pool. 

The boys looked at each other wonderingly. 

“ Well, did you ever! ” exclaimed Bob. 

“ No, I never! ” echoed Fred. 

“ His throat must be lined with sandpaper,” 
said Bob, pulling in his line and trying the hook 
with his thumb. “ It’s a good sharp hook, but it 
didn’t seem to make any impression on his 
mouth.” 

“ Try him again just for fun,” suggested 
Fred. 

Bob put on a fresh worm and threw his line in 
again. A moment later he felt a steady pull on 
it, and when he tried to draw it in, it seemed to 
be hooked into something heavy and solid. 

“ I believe I’ve hooked him again,” he cried. 

“ We’ll land him this time,” said Fred. 

Very carefully they drew in the line. This 
time they would make sure of him. They drew 
him over toward the shore. Then they pulled 
the black head out of water again. The neck 
appeared, and the edge of the oval shell. Bob 
trembled with excitement. “ We’ve got him, 


106 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

Fred; weVe got him,” he exclaimed. He spoke 
too soon, however. Just as they had drawn him 
half out of the water and could distinguish the 
outline of his big shell, and see his sprawling 
flippers clawing the slippery sides of the pool, 
c-r-a-t-c-h! — out slipped the hook, and plop! — 
back into the brook he fell. 

“ Good-night! ” exclaimed Fred. 

“ He was only playing tag with us,” said Bob. 
“ wasn’t he a big one ! ” 

“ He certainly was a grandfather,” agreed 
Fred. 

It was now about noon, and as the boys were 
feeling hungry they began to look around for a 
good place to eat lunch. 

“ Of course we want to cook our fish, don’t 
we? ” asked Bob. 

“ Sure,” said Fred. “ They’re never so good 
as when they are cooked on the bank of the 
stream right after you’ve caught ’em. The first 
thing,” he continued, “ is to clean our fish. Do 
you know how to do it? ” 

“ I’m afraid not,” said Bob. “ In the Adiron- 
dacks the guides always cleaned the fish.” He 
spoke rather apologetically, for he felt a little 
ashamed to confess his ignorance to Fred. The 


A QUEER FISH 107 

Scouts were so much more self-reliant than most 
boys he had known. 

“ Well, every Scout has to learn how to cook 
if he is to get beyond the Tenderfoot grade,” said 
Fred. “And here's a good chance for you to 
have a lesson. We’ll clean them in the brook.” 

The boys soon found a good place to clean 
their fish. Fred showed Bob how to rub the 
trout with sand until the slime was removed, then 
how to cut off the head, split the belly and remove 
the insides. Bob was slow and awkward with his 
first fish, but he did better with his second, and 
before he was through with his share he was able 
to clean them almost as quickly as Fred. 

“ I never knew trout were so dirty,” he said, as 
he looked at his half-dozen dressed fish, all clean 
and ready to cook, lying in the frying-pan. 
“ They always look so bright and pretty when 
you take them out of the water that I never 
thought of them as dirty.” 

“ Yes, I know you’d think that way,” said 
Fred. “Ajs a matter of fact, a trout is awfully 
dirty. He is covered with a thick black slime, 
that has to be scraped off before he is fit to 
eat.” 

After some search they found a good place be- 


108 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

side a big boulder where they soon fashioned a 
little fireplace of stones and started a fire. Then 
Fred showed Bob how to roll the fish in corn meal 
and fry them with strips of bacon. It was great 
fun, and Bob began to feel that he was fast learn- 
ing to be a cook. 

“Aren’t you glad you came? ” asked Fred, his 
mouth full of delicious, crisp fried trout. 

“ Glad! Wouldn’t have missed it for any- 
thing! I’m sorry Reddy and the Egg aren’t 
here, though.” 

“ They would have been but for Eggie’s fool- 
ishness. It’s never wise to fool with a porcu- 
pine.” 

“ Is it true that porcupines can throw their 
quills at you? ” asked Bob. 

Fred smiled. “No, that’s merely superstition. 
The quills are very sharp-pointed and come out 
easily, so that if you get against them you are 
likely to get hurt. They have little barbs on the 
end, too, and work in instead of out. I had a 
dog that once tackled a porky and got his nose 
full of quills. Poor pup! How he did squeal! 
I had to pull out the quills with pincers, they 
stuck so. And I didn’t get them out for a week. 
It’s always best to leave a porky alone.” 


A QUEER FISH 109 

“ There are just two trout left, one apiece,” 
said Bob. 

“All right, we don’t want to waste such food as 
that,” said Fred. 

Each of the boys took one of the nicely 
browned little fish from the frying-pan and ate 
it with relish. 

“There!” said Fred. “We’ve left nothing 
for the fairies. I suppose it isn’t exactly good 
manners, but it’s economical at any rate.” 

After lounging in the soft grass for half an 
hour or so the boys decided to resume* their fish- 
ing. They had eaten for lunch all the trout they 
had caught during the morning, and they were 
anxious to take some back to camp that evening 
for Mr. McGregor. They washed their dishes 
in the brook, first filling them with wet sand and 
shaking them thoroughly to rub off the grease; 
then they picked up their belongings and started 
off down the brook. They had gone only a few 
steps when Fred stopped. 

“ Say, Tenderfoot,” he asked, “ did you put 
out the fire? ” 

“ Wliy ! ” said Bob in surprise. “ It was all 
out, wasn’t it? ” 

For answer Fred pointed back toward their 


110 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

lunching place. Wisps of blue smoke still rose 
from the charred embers of their fire. Bob 
looked at Fred inquiringly. “ It’s almost out,” 
he said. “ Shan’t we leave it? ” 

Fred smiled and shook his head. “ One of the 
first lessons in woodcraft is never to leave a fire 
burning in the woods. That sort of carelessness 
is responsible for most of the forest fires, and 
causes the loss of thousands of dollars’ worth of 
timber every year. We must put out every 
spark.” 

The boys went back, and cutting alder switches, 
wet them in the brook, and carefully beat out the 
live coals. 

“ There,” said Fred, when they had finished, 
“ that’s a thorough job. If every hunter and 
hiker in the woods was as careful as we have been 
there would be fewer forest fires.” 

“ I’ll remember that,” said Bob. 

The boys fished down through the meadow for 
an hour or so and met with fairly good luck. 
Then they came to a thick growth of alders where 
the brook divided into two small channels so over- 
grown with bushes that it was next to impossible 
to fish. They reeled in their lines and started to 
pick their way through the alders, expecting to 


A QUEER FISH 111 

come out into the open meadow again presently. 
They had taken only a few steps through the 
alder growth when Bob, who was in the lead, 
heard a curious noise, half whistle and half eluck. 
Stopping and looking about him he saw a brown 
bird, as large as a small hen, hurrying along a few 
yards ahead of him, her feathers bristling and 
her wings half outspread, and making the queer 
whistling and clucking sound that he had 
heard. 

“ Look, look! ” called Bob. 

But Fred had heard the sound as soon as Bob 
and hurried to his side. “Ruffed grouse!’* he 
exclaimed. “ She has young ones.” 

Running forward he began to brush aside the 
brakes and bushes. 

“ Ha! There are some of them!” he called. 
Bob caught sight of several little brown birds 
that darted about among the leaves and brakes. 
But they were so quick, and seemed to disappear 
so suddenly that he could obtain only fleeting 
glimpses of them. Meanwhile the mother flut- 
tered on ahead of them, trying to attract the 
boys’ attention, but taking care to keep out of 
their reach. At length she took to the wing, fly- 
ing off with a noise like thunder. 


112 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“ Nobody could ever find any of the little ones 
now,” said Fred. “ She wouldn’t have flown un- 
less she was sure they had got away or were 
safely hidden.” 

“ How knowing they are! ” exclaimed Bob. 

The boys fished down the stream for an hour 
longer with indifferent luck. The brook was 
shallow and there were few deep pools. They 
picked up a trout here and there, however. 
About four o’clock they stopped altogether. 

“ It will take us an hour and a half to get back 
to the lake,” said Fred, “ and fifteen or twenty 
minutes more to paddle down to camp. We 
haven’t much more time than we need to get back 
by supper.” 

They reeled in their lines, unjointed their rods, 
and tied them up in their cases. Then they 
counted their fish. Fred had nine and Bob 
had seven. The biggest one was eight inches 
long. 

“ Not a bad string, eh? ” said Fred. “And we 
ate half a dozen apiece for lunch.” 

“ Dad would laugh at a string like this, I sup- 
pose,” said Bob. “ He always throws back all 
he catches below nine or ten inches.” 

Fred laughed. “ That’s altogether too swell 


113 


A QUEER FISH 

for this brook. If we were as particular as that, 
I’m afraid we should never bring home many 
trout.” 

Leaving the meadow they started to climb the 
slope toward the wood road that led to the lake. 
It was hot and close in the lowland and the mos- 
quitoes were plentiful. The boys were glad to 
reach the high land where they could get a little 
breeze. The woods were rather open and the 
walking was fairly easy; they were not long in 
finding the road. An hour’s walk brought them 
out to the head of the lake where they had left 
their canoe. 

“ My ! Doesn’t the water look good ! ” ex- 
claimed Bob. “ I’ll bet it would feel good, too. 
Why not have a swim? ” 

“ We’re too warm to go in now,” replied Fred. 
“We might have cramps.” 

“Well then, I suppose we had better go right 
along to camp if we expect to get there by sup- 
per-time,” said Bob. 

They got into the canoe and paddled do^vn the 
lake. As they neared the camp a crowd of boys 
assembled on the shore to meet them. Among 
them Bob and Fred recognized Reddy and the 

Egg. 


114 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“ Poor Eggiel I’ll bet he’s sore,” said Fred. 

“No sorer than Reddy,” said Bob. 

“ Well, did you catch anything? ” shouted one 
of the boys, as soon as the canoe was within easy 
hearing. 

“ Sure we did,” called Fred. 

“ Huh! I smell skunk,” shouted the Egg in 
derision. 

“ It isn’t skunk you smell; it’s porcupine,” 
called Bob. Whereupon the Egg flushed deeply 
and looked very much crestfallen. 

“ What’s the joke about porcupine? ” asked 
Tommy Fielder. 

“ Ask the Egg; he knows,” said Fred. 

“ Hey, Eggie, what does he mean? ” asked 
Tommy. But the Egg, foreseeing awkward 
questions, had suddenly remembered that he had 
pressing duties elsewhere and set off up the path 
from the lake. 

That night at the camp-fire Mr. McGregor, in 
accordance with his regular custom, asked Fred 
and Bob to give an account of their day’s trip. 
They did so, Fred telling the story up to lunch- 
time and Bob taking it up from that point to the 
end. They omitted the adventure with the por- 
cupine and Reddy and the Egg’s unexpected 


A QUEER FISH 115 

baths, much to the relief of their two companions. 
Mr. McGregor was greatly interested in their 
experiences with the turtle. 

“ There are a good many turtles in this neigh- 
borhood,” he said, “ and some are very old. A 
few years ago a hunter shot one on the lake. It 
was enormous, nearly three feet long. There 
were several initials carved on the shell and a 
date more than forty years old.” 

“ Shot one ! ” exclaimed Bob. “ Why should 
he kill the poor beast? ” 

“Why should he indeed?” said Mr. Mc- 
Gregor. “ It was a thoughtless thing to do. 
We have no right to take the lives of wild crea- 
tures in the woods except for protection or to 
supply ourselves with necessary food. We shall 
find the woods much more interesting if we come 
into them to observe and study the wild life and 
not to destroy it. The best way to hunt is with 
a camera.” 

“ Oh ! if we had only had a camera this morn- 
ing! ” exclaimed Fred. 

“Yes. If we only had! ” said Bob. 

“ We had a fine chance to take a picture of a 
pair of ducks,” said Fred. 

“ You mean duckings, don’t ygy? ” asked Bob. 


116 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“ Oh, I don’t know; ask Reddy,” said Fred, 
grinning. 

“ Tell us the joke,” said INIr. McGregor with 
a smile. 

“ We don’t dare to,” replied Bob. “ You’ll 
have to ask Reddy and the Egg. They know.” 

But Reddy and the Egg refused to enlighten 
them, and soon afterward Fred blew Taps and 
the camp settled do^vn for the night. It had 
been a wonderful day. 


CHAPTER XI 

THE OVERNIGHT GAMES 

Bob had several times heard the older boys 
speak of the Overnight Games and what fun 
they were, and he had looked forward to them 
with great eagerness. When, therefore, one 
morning at Assembly Mr. McGregor announced 
that he was planning for some games of this sort 
Bob was delighted. Now at last he was to have 
a chance to see for himself just what these much- 
talked of games really were like. 

“ The boys who have been at the camp before,” 
said Mr. McGregor, “ loiow what these games 
are; but for the benefit of the new boys I will 
explain. First, the whole camp will elect two 
leaders or captains. These leaders will then 
choose, turn by turn, the boys they wish to have 
on their side, until the whole camp has been di- 
vided into two parties. These parties will go 
out into the woods a mile or two from camp and 
117 


118 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

select headquarters or camping grounds. Here 
they will remain for about two days and engage 
in their play. 

“ The object of the games is to see which party 
can capture the most prisoners from its oppo- 
nents and hold them. This gives both parties a 
fine opportunity to devise plans for capturing 
their prisoners, and in case their o^vn men are 
captured, for rescuing them. It is important 
that at the outset neither party knows where the 
* enemy * camp is located. This offers splendid 
opportunities for scouting and executing surprise 
attacks. Each party carries its own provisions 
and is thrown on its own resources. Besides af- 
fording splendid opportunities for planning at- 
tacks and ambuscades, and for exercising strategy, 
the games place a great deal of responsibility on 
the leaders. The old boys will agree with me, I 
am sure, that the Overnight Games provide some 
of the most interesting incidents of our camp 
life.’’ 

There was a general murmur of assent at Mr. 
McGregor’s words, and Bob could see that the 
boys were excited at the prospect of the games. 

“ Now,” continued the Commissioner, “ if you 
like the idea, the first thing for you to do is to 


THE OVERNIGHT GAMES 119 

elect two leaders — one for each side. Nomina- 
tions are in order.” 

Fred Ashleigh, Tommy Fielder and two or 
three other boys were quickly nominated, but 
Fred and Tommy were elected by a show of 
hands. Thereupon Mr. McGregor asked them 
to step forward. 

“ Now then,” he said, “ you fellows must 
choose sides, and as the boys are chosen they must 
come forward and gather round their leaders.” 

A coin was flipped to determine who should 
have first choice and Fred won. Immediately 
he chose Bob. Tommy Fielder promptly chose 
Reddy McTurk. Fred made a wry face at that 
because it broke up the Gang. Fred then chose 
the Egg, whereupon Tommy chose Ralph 
Maxon. There was great interest among the 
boys at this point, each one wondering if he would 
be chosen next. In a few minutes the boys had 
all been selected, and as luck would have it they 
divided evenly — twenty-eight on a side. 

“ Each captain must appoint two lieutenants,” 
said Mr. McGregor. 

Fred immediately appointed Bob and the Egg 
as his lieutenants, while Tommy Fielder ap- 
pointed Reddy McTurk and Ralph Maxon. 


120 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“ Now,” said Mr. McGregor, “ if you two offi- 
cers will come up to the headquarters tent I will 
give you your instructions.” 

When the leaders had assembled he took from 
a locker a government map of the neighboring 
country and spread it out on the table. 

“ There,” he said, “ I have marked in red ink 
the location of the boundary lines for the games. 
You go straight up the valley past the lake to the 
old dam over the stream about a half mile above 
the head of the lake. The dam marks the lower 
limit of the games. An imaginary line drawn 
across the valley from the crest of the ridges on 
each side marks the lower boundary, while a sim- 
ilar line drawn aeross the valley at Echo Cliff, 
about a mile and a half farther up, marks the 
upper boundary. Is that clear? ” 

“ I suppose you mean for the side boundaries 
to run along the crest of the ridges on both sides,” 
said Fred. 

“ Precisely. The ground for the games will 
cover about a mile and a half each way, extending 
from Echo Cliff on the north to the old dam on 
the south, and east and west from crest to 
crest of the ridges.” 

“ That’s elear,” said Tommy Fielder. 


THE OVERNIGHT GAMES 121 

“ Now somewhere within those limits both of 
your parties will establish your respective head- 
quarters. You must, of course, try to conceal 
from one another the location of jmur camps, 
and you will need to exercise extreme caution to 
succeed in this. A tune limit will be set for the 
games — say from two o’clock Monday afternoon 
till nine o’clock Wednesday morning. During 
that period you must try to capture as many of 
your opponents as possible.” 

“ How are we expected to capture prisoners? ” 
asked Bob. “ Must we grab fellows and hold on 
to them? ” 

“ No, you don’t need to use force,” replied Mr. 
McGregor. “It is enough to touch your op- 
ponent on the arm. After being captured, how- 
ever, a prisoner has the right to escape if he can. 
Prisoners have to be watched.” 

“ But how is a fellow to escape capture? ” 
asked Bob. “ Must he run or is he allowed to 
fight? ” 

“ There must be no fighting. The boy who is 
seen first and recognized immediately becomes 
the fugitive and must try to escape capture by 
running or hiding. If his pursuer gets near 
enough to touch him he is considered captured.” 


122 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“Are we allowed to tie up our prisoners?” 
asked Bob. 

“Yes, or you can take their parole, that is, 
their promise not to escape. This is seldom done, 
however, for it spoils a good deal of the fun if 
the prisoners don’t have to be watched. Now 
from this moment you leaders assume responsi- 
bility for the physical condition of your men. 
This is Saturday, and the games start Monday. 
That means that between now and Monday when 
you leave camp you must watch your men care- 
fully to make sure that they keep in good shape 
and that none of them gets sick. If one of you 
has to leave camp Monday morning a man short 
through injury or sickness, you are handicapped 
to just that extent.” 

“ Do you mean that if one of our fellows gets 
sick between now and the time we pull out on 
Monday the other side doesn’t have to leave a 
man behind so as to keep the numbers even?” 
asked Bob. 

“ Exactly. There is just the same number of 
boys on each side now, and the number will 
not be changed. It’s up to you to see that 
you don’t lose anybody through sickness or in- 
jury.” 


THE OVERNIGHT GAMES 123 

“ How about supplies and tents? ” asked 
Tommy. 

“ You are to travel as light as possible,” re- 
plied Mr. McGregor. “ But of course you must 
have all that you need to keep you well fed and 
comfortable. Jeff has instructions to give you 
the necessary food supplies, and you must decide 
just what utensils, blankets and tents you will 
need. 

“ You ought to appoint one or two boys to 
look after your commissary work, and one or two 
others to supervise the matter of tents and blan- 
kets. You see this expedition will give you valu- 
able experience in more ways than one. It will 
give you some idea of the value of organization.” 

Bob grew more and more interested as he lis- 
tened to Mr. McGregor’s instructions. He saw 
that the Overnight Games were more than mere 
games. They were devised to give the boys ex- 
perience in meeting responsibility, in planning 
and organizing, and in directing the activities of 
a group of individuals. The training involved 
was of the utmost practical value. It would help 
the leaders to become more efficient. 

“ Between now and Monday,” continued Mr. 
McGregor, “ I suggest that you leaders look 


124 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

over the ground where the games are to take 
place and decide on the camping sites. Keep 
the choice of your own camp secret, for it is 
perfectly legitimate from now on for each party 
to try and learn as much as possible about the 
plans of its opponents and to turn this informa- 
tion to its o^vn advantage. There is one more 
thing. In order to distinguish members of one 
party from those of the other I suggest that all 
the boys on one side wear a badge — say a hand- 
kerchief tied round the left arm. It ought to be 
something that can be seen at a distance.” 

“ Why wouldn’t it be a good idea for each of 
our bands to have a name? ” asked Fred. 

“ It would. Do as you like about that,” re- 
plied the Commissioner. 

Fred’s suggestion met with favor, and after 
some debate it was decided that his party should 
be called the Redbirds and should wear red bands 
around the left arm to distinguish them. Tommy 
Fielder’s band decided to call themselves the 
- Hoodoos and to wear a badge on the left arm con- 
sisting of the letter H inside a circle, marked with 
white chalk like this (^. 

When these matters had been settled, the boys 
left the headquarters tent and set to work to get 


THE OVERNIGHT GAMES 125 

their parties organized. First they consulted 
J eff, and after much debate decided on just what 
they should need to take with them in the way 
of supplies. It was a formidable list, for they 
were to be away from camp nearly two days; 
and fifty-six boys will eat a lot of food in that 
time. Jeff was generous with advice, especially 
in regard to eggs. 

“ Be mighty keerful ’bout dese yer aigs, boys,” 
he said. “ Yer kain’t carry ’em like yer do per- 
taters. Las’ year some fool boy carried a box 
of aigs wrapped up in a sweater and den frew 
it down on de groun’ where some ’un laid on it. 
Sakes erlive, yer oughter seen dat sweater when 
he brung it back ter camp. Looked like a small- 
pox flag; it sure did, he, he! ” 

The question of supplies was settled at last, 
and boys were appointed from each party to 
take charge of them and see to their transporta- 
tion. Then after much consultation it was de- 
cided that two tents would be taken with each 
party, and certain boys were appointed to attend 
to their transportation. It only remained to se- 
lect the camp-site. In order to discuss their plans 
without being overheard Fred, Bob and the Egg 
retired to the Crow’s Nest. 


126 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“ Now,’’ said Fred, when they had climbed to 
the top and were comfortably seated on the moss, 
“it is very important, as you know, that we 
keep all our plans secret from the Hoodoos 
and learn as much as possible about their 
plans.” 

“ It’s hard luck that Reddy McTurk is on the 
other side,” said the Egg. “ It breaks up the 
Gang.” 

“ Yes,” said Fred. “ That’s why Tommy 
Fielder chose him. He knew that if the whole 
Gang was against him he wouldn’t stand any 
show of winning.” 

“ Reddy’s a sharp chap all right,” said the 
Egg, “ and we’ll have to keep a special watch on 
him. If we get licked it will be because of 
Reddy.” 

“We aren’t going to get licked,” replied 
Fred, “ and we’re going to put Reddy out of the 
game first thing.” 

“ How are you going to do that? ” asked the 

Egg. 

“ That’s something for us to figure out,” re- 
plied Fred. “ Now, Bob,” he continued, “ I 
want you to make it your business to shadow 
Reddy and think up a plan to capture him. If 


THE OVERNIGHT GAMES 127 

we can put him out of running I know we’ll win 
easily.” 

“ I’ll see what I can do,” said Bob. “ I guess 
I can think up something.” 

“ This afternoon,” continued Fred, “ the Egg 
and I will go up the valley and look the country 
over. We’ll scout around keeping out of sight 
of the Hoodoos, and select the likeliest place for 
a camp. Probably Tommy and his lieutenants 
will be doing the same thing. If they do, I want 
you to shadow them and see if you can’t find out 
where they decide to locate their camp. Don’t 
let them see you. When they go into camp Mon- 
day we want them to think that we haven’t the 
slightest idea where they are. Then they won’t 
be so careful and we shall have a good chance to 
surprise them.” 

After some further conversation about their 
plans they scrambled down from the Crow’s Nest 
and returned to camp. As soon as they had dis- 
appeared a boy swung himself to the ground 
through the trees at the back of the big rock. 

“ Gee! ” he exclaimed, “ that was a close call. 
When Fred looked over the hack of the rock I 
thought he would surely see me. So Bob is going 
to shadow me, is he? We’ll see about that. 


128 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

That’s a game that two can play at,” and Reddy 
McTurk set otf briskly down the path to the 
camp. The Hoodoos had already gained some 
valuable information about the “ enemy.” 

Without seeming to watch them, Bob kept a 
sharp eye on Tommy Fielder, Ralph Maxon, and 
Reddy McTurk, and when they left camp to- 
gether soon after dinner and set off up the valley, 
he started after them. He had taken the pre- 
caution to put on a pair of moccasins so that he 
could walk through the woods almost noiselessly. 
During most of the afternoon he followed as 
closely as he could; and whenever they stopped 
for consultation he crawled as closely as he dared 
in order to listen. There were several places 
which offered good camp-sites, and it was evident 
from their conversation and gestures that 
Tommy and his lieutenants found it difficult 
which one to choose. Late in the afternoon, 
however, they stopped for a final consultation, 
and after some talk referred the matter to Reddy 
McTurk. There was considerable thick under- 
growth here and Bob had succeeded in getting 
near enough to hear the conversation clearly. 
Besides, Reddy spoke in a loud, clear voice, as if 
he didn’t care who overheard him. 


THE OVERNIGHT GAMES 129 

“ The best place, fellows,” he said, “ is right 
here. It is near good water and it’s sheltered 
from the wind.” 

“ What do you say, Ralph? ” asked Tommy. 

“ I agree with Reddy.” 

“ All right, we’ll establish our headquarters 
here, then,” said Tommy. As he spoke he struck 
the ground sharply with a stick that he was 
carrjdng. 

‘*Now, of course, Fred Ashleigh and his crowd 
will be trying to find out where we have decided 
to camp. There may be some of his scouts out 
here in the woods this minute trying to get a line 
on us ; so we must keep mum. Don’t tell anyone 
where we are to be. That must be kept between 
us three until we bring the fellows up here Mon- 
day.” 

“ Right you are. Cap,” agreed Reddy. 
“ Mum’s the word.” 

Tommy and his lieutenants set off on their 
return to camp and Bob followed at a safe dis- 
tance. When he reached camp he saw Tommy 
and Ralph talking with Mr. McGregor, but 
Reddy was nowhere in sight. Remembering 
Fred’s orders that he was to shadow Reddy Mc- 
Turk, Bob hunted the camp over for the missing 


130 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

boy. For a time Reddy was nowhere to be 
found. Then all at once Bob saw him appear 
from the direction of the valley trail. Bob won- 
dered where he had been. Was it possible that 
he had not returned with Tommy and Ralph? 
For an instant Bob felt worried. Reddy was a 
shrewd fellow and must be kept in sight. 

It was not long before Fred and the Egg ap- 
peared, and beckoning to Bob, they led the way 
to the Crow’s Nest. 

“ We’ve found a peach of a place for our 
camp,” said Fred, as soon as they had scrambled 
up on the rock. “ It’s in a kind of little hollow 
on the side of a hill with high rocks behind so that 
we can’t be surprised from the rear. There is a 
spring near by; so we shall be fixed all right for 
water. The woods below are rather open and 
our sentries can see the Hoodoos coming if they 
should try to rush our camp.” 

“ That sounds fine,” said Bob. Then he told 
them how he had spent the afternoon and of his 
good luck in finding out the location of the Hoo- 
doo camp. 

Fred and the Egg were delighted. “ That’s 
bully. Bob!” exclaimed Fred. “You’re a fine 
Scout. We’ll beat them sure.” 


THE OVERNIGHT GAMES 131 


“ It’ll be great to beat Reddy,” said the Egg. 

They would have felt less certain about beat- 
ing Reddy if they could have seen him at that 
moment. Clinging to a narrow, moss-covered 
shelf on the back of the rock, he had again heard 
almost every word that they said. 


CHAPTER XII 


REDDY MCTURK SCORES 

Monday came at last and dawned bright and 
fair. The whole camp was up early and soon 
the boys were busily engaged in preparations. 

“ Don’t bolt your breakfasts,” warned Mr. 
McGregor with a laugh. “ This is the last 
chance you’ll have to eat Jeff’s good cooking for 
a couple of days and you had better take advan- 
tage of it. Start with a good meal under your 
belts.” 

But the boys were too excited to take the Com- 
missioner’s advice. Most of them gobbled their 
breakfasts and rushed back to their tents to get 
things tidied up and to lay out their equipment 
for the games. There were many details to at- 
tend to, and several false starts were made. 
Once Tommy Fielder’s party had actually got 
under way when Tommy discovered that the 
tents had been forgotten; so he had to halt his 
forces and send back for the missing articles. 
The Hoodoos were given a half-hour’s start in 
132 


REDDY MCTURK SCORES 133 

order that they might reach their camp unob- 
served. Then the Redbirds followed single file, 
swinging along the wood road that led up the 
valley past the edge of the lake. In half an hour 
they had reached the old dam that marked the 
lower boundary of the games. Here they crossed 
the bridge and struck into the woods on the west- 
ern bank. When they were well in under cover 
of the trees Fred Ashleigh halted his band. 

“ From now on, fellows,” he said, “ we must 
be very quiet. If we are not, the Hoodoos will 
hear us at a distance and locate us. We can talk, 
of course, all we want to, but let it be in a low 
voice, and let’s be careful not to have any loud 
laughing or yelling.” 

A twenty-minute walk through the woods 
brought them to the camp-site that Fred and the 
Egg had chosen on the previous Saturday. It 
was a little, grassy clearing on the side of the hill, 
a kind of terrace with a semicircle of rocks rising 
at one end. This would prevent surprise from 
three sides; and by posting sentries on the hill- 
side below it would be easy to get warning of the 
approach of the enemy from that direction. The 
boys were delighted with the place. 

“ Just made for a camp,” said Dimples. “ The 


134 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

only trouble is that if the Hoodoos captured our 
sentries they’d have us in a pocket. We couldn’t 
get out.” 

“ We could climb over the rocks, couldn’t 
we?” asked Alec Thompson, a small, wiry little 
fellow. 

Dimples looked down at himself in dismay. 
*' You might,” he said, “ but I never could in the 
world without wings.” 

Alec laughed. “ I’d like to see you with 
wings,” he said. “ You’d look like a giant June 
bug.” 

The tents were quickly pitched and covered 
with loose branches to hide them from view. The 
supplies were thrown inside. By this time it was 
noon and the boys were hungry. Small fires 
that would give off very little smoke were built, 
and in a few minutes bacon and eggs and pan- 
cakes were cooking. Bob was surprised to see 
how independent and capable the boys were. 
They handled their utensils deftly and cooked 
their food without wasting any materials. When 
dinner was over they heated water from the 
spring near by in a big kettle that they had 
brought and washed their dishes. One or two of 
them grumbled at this, but Fred insisted. 


REDDY MCTUBK SCORES 135 


“We mustn’t be sloppy simply because we 
haven’t Uncle and Old Four Eyes here to watch 
us,” he said. “ You all know that the camp has 
to be kept neat and the dishes and cooking uten- 
sils kept clean; so don’t let’s grumble but go 
ahead and do what’s right.” 

The dishes were washed and everything tidied 
up. Then Fred called the boys around him. 

“ Now, fellows,” he said, “ we must get busy 
right off. We aren’t going to wait for them to 
come and capture us, but we are going to capture 
them. We know where their camp is and Bob 
and I are going to lead a party to capture it. 
I’ll leave four fellows behind to guard our camp. 
Keep two sentinels out on the slope of the hill 
below. The signals for our side will be the hoot 
of an owl. One hoot means simply, ‘ I am com- 
ing’; two hoots mean ‘ Danger! The enemy is 
coming ’ ; three hoots mean ‘ Come and help me.’ 
Now if the Hoodoos should by any chance dis- 
cover our camp and attack while we are gone, 
you fellows who are left behind must try to leave 
the camp and get word to us. Then we shall try 
to recapture it. If any of you get captured, lie 
low and watch for a chance to escape.” 

Leaving four boys behind, the main body of 


136 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

the Redbirds left camp, Bob leading the way as 
guide. The plan was to keep together till the 
neighborhood of the Hoodoo camp was reached, 
then to divide forces. While Fred with half of 
the fellows would rush the camp from one side. 
Bob with the rest would lie in wait on the other 
side and capture the Hoodoos as they retreated. 

Progress through the woods was at first rather 
easy. There was very little underbrush and the 
ground was fairly smooth ; but when they reached 
lower ground and neared the stream, the under- 
growth became thicker and swampy places were 
frequent. The going was not difficult, however, 
and they reached the brook in twenty minutes or 
so. Crossing on the stones they climbed up the 
opposite slope and came to a wood road. Here 
Bob halted the party to get his bearings. As 
nearly as he could judge, the camp-site that 
Tommy Fielder and his two lieutenants had de- 
cided on was up this road a hundred yards or two. 
He explained the situation to Fred. 

“ Now’s the time to do a little scout work,” 
said Fred. “ You take a couple of fellows and 
go ahead. When you have located the camp 
for sure, send word back to us and we’ll join 
you.” 


REDDY MCTURK SCORES 137 

Bob took two boys with hini and went forward 
in the general direction in which he judged the 
Hoodoo camp lay. They advanced carefully, 
stopping every now and then to peer ahead cau- 
tiously and listen. They heard no voices, how- 
ever, and as they walked on without coining upon 
any signs of the “ enemy,” Bob began to think 
that he must have mistaken the locality. All at 
once the roadway widened out into a little clear- 
ing and they stopped and looked about them. 
This seemed lilie the place. On Saturday Bob 
had taken note of the surroundings. There was 
the tall hemlock on the farther side of the clear- 
ing; there was the big boulder by the side of the 
road. Yes, this was surely the place. But there 
was nobody here. How was that? 

As Bob stood there looking about him in doubt 
and surprise, something unusual caught his eye. 
Near the big boulder a slender branch cut from a 
sapling was sticking upright in the ground, and 
fastened on the end of it was a piece of white 
paper. Bob called the attention of his compan- 
ions to the paper. 

“ Looks like a note of some sort,” he said. 
“ Let’s investigate.” 

They walked up to the stick cautiously. It 


138 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

proved to be a twig newly-cut and the paper was 
stuck in a notch at the end. Bob pulled it out 
and unfolded it. On it were written in lead pen- 
cil some characters in what seemed to be code. 
The three boys stood there together staring at the 
characters. 

“ Now what do you suppose this means? ” said 
Bob. 

Hardly had he spoken when there was a sud- 
den noise. He looked up just in time to see 
Reddy McTurk and two or three other feUows 
almost upon them. Like a flash Bob turned and 
ran. Over his shoulder he noticed that the Hoo- 
doos had captured both of his companions, and 
Reddy McTurk was coming after him like the 
wind. Yelling at the top of his lungs as a warn- 
ing to Fred and his band, Bob sped down the 
road. His sudden burst of speed discouraged 
Reddy, who soon stopped chasing him. Bob 
paused to take breath. 

“ Well, Joe Miller,” he said to himself, 
“ Reddy has scored the first point.” 

A few minutes later he found Fred and the 
rest of the party impatiently awaiting him down 
the road. Fred listened to Bob’s story with sur- 
prise. 


REDDY MCTURK SCORES 139 

How do you suppose they expected us to 
come to the clearing? ” he asked. 

Bob shook his head. “ I don’t know,” he said. 
“ It was luck they didn’t capture me.” 

“ It was an ambush all right,” said Fred. 
“ But what puzzles me is that Reddy should have 
been expecting us to come here. Another thing 
that looks queer is this: they haven’t made their 
camp at the clearing where you heard them say 
they would. They’ve fooled us there, too.” 

Bob was thinking hard. Could it be that 
Reddy had discovered that he was trailing them 
on Saturday and had purposely led him wrong 
about the camp location? It began to look as if 
Reddy had laid a trap for him. “And he almost 
got me, too,” he said to himself. 

“ Well,” said Fred, breaking in on Bob’s re- 
flections, “ they’ve scored first, and we mustn’t 
let them score second. We must find out where 
they are camped. I think we had better divide 
into two parties. You take half of the fellows 
and go on up the road and see if you can’t locate 
them. If they see you first and chase you, draw 
them on to us and we’ll capture them all.” 

Taking ten boys Bob led the way back up the 
road, leaving Fred to follow with the other boys 


140 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

a hundred yards or so behind. Bob walked fif- 
teen or twenty yards in advance of the main body 
of his band and in order to guard against sur- 
prise he placed a boy in the woods on each side 
of the road with orders to keep abreast of him 
and to advance through the woods as noiselessly 
as possible. In case an “ enemy ” was sighted 
the alarm was to be given by signal. 

Bob advanced at a good pace, but as quietly as 
possible, keeping a sharp lookout ahead and 
stopping every now and then to listen. Soon he 
had reached the clearing where his two compan- 
ions had been captured a short time before. He 
circled about the big boulder at a safe distance 
to avoid a second ambush and passed on. He 
had gone some fifty or sixty yards farther when 
he heard a noise in the woods to his right. He 
stopped to listen. Someone was running through 
the woods. Then came two hoots of an owl — 
the danger call. Bob turned and ran back to- 
ward his main band, but he had taken hardly a 
dozen steps when he saw them running up the 
road toward him, and close on their heels came a 
crowd of Hoodoos, Even as he looked he saw 
several of his men tagged and captured. Again 
he turned and started to run up the road. His 


REDDY MCTUBK SCORES 141 


hope of escape in this direction was soon cut off, 
however, for as he passed a big oak Reddy Mc- 
Turk leaped out upon him. This time it was 
sheer luck that saved Bob. Reddy’s foot caught 
in a root and he stumbled. Before he could re- 
cover himself Bob had escaped into the woods. 

Bob ran till he was out of breath; then he 
stopped and crouched behind a tree to rest. 
Here was a pretty kettle of fish. Reddy had 
scored again. Twice in one day ! Bob reckoned 
up probable losses. Two boys had been cap- 
tured in the first encounter and no doubt five or 
six had been taken in the second. And so far the 
Redbirds had not one prisoner to their credit. 
This was a discouraging outlook. 

Bob was uncertain what to do next. Should 
he try to find Fred and his party? Or should he 
go back to camp and await his return? He de- 
cided it would be best to try and find out first 
what had become of Fred; so at the end of a few 
minutes he struck off through the woods in what 
he judged to be the direction of the old road. 
He soon found it and followed it cautiously down 
the little valley toward the dam. He saw no- 
body, however, and heard nobody. What had 
become of Fred? Had he returned to Qaxnp or 


142 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

had he gone on up the road? Then Bob remem- 
bered the signals they had agreed upon. Step- 
ping behind a tree so that he could look up and 
down the road without being seen, he imitated 
the hoot of an owl. He called several times 
without getting any answer. Then when he was 
about ready to give up trying to summon anyone, 
he heard a faint reply. Again he called, and 
again came the reply. A little later Alec 
Thompson appeared down the road. As Alec 
approached his tree Bob stepped out into sight. 

“ Well, Alec,” he said, “ Reddy has scored 
again.” 

Alec grinned ruefully. “ He sure has,” he 
replied. 

“ Where are the rest of the crowd? ” 

Alec knew little more than Bob. He had been 
the only one of Bob’s advance guard to escape 
Reddy and his Hoodoos, and what had become 
of Fred and the others he did not know. The 
question was: WTiat should they do? Alec was 
for returning to camp. “ Two of us can’t do 
anything,” he said. “We must have reinforce- 
ments. We may find Fred and the rest of the 
crowd at the camp. If not, there are the four 
fellows we left there and by joining them we 


BEBDY MCTUBK SCORES 143 

shall have a squad big enough to do some- 
thing.” 

Bob reflected. “We can’t accomplish any- 
thing against the Hoodoos until we learn the lo- 
cation of their camp. That’s the first thing for 
us to do. So I propose that we go on up the 
valley and see if we can find them.” 

After some discussion the boys decided to do 
this and set off up the road. They passed the 
places where the two encounters had occurred 
and went on some distance without seeing or 
hearing anything unusual. All at once Bob 
stopped. “ Look at this,” he said as he picked 
up a handkerchief from the road. On examina- 
tion it showed the initials F. A. in one corner. 

“ This is Fred Ashleigh’s I ” exclaimed Bob. 
“ I’ll bet he dropped it as a signal. He must 
have been captured and passed this way.” 

A couple of hundred yards further on they 
heard voices. 

“ Hold on,” said Bob, “ we’ve got to go slowly 
now. They will have sentries out and we mustn’t 
let them see us.” 

Taking the wood road they advanced with 
great caution. The sound of voices became 
louder, and presently the woods grew lighter 


144 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

ahead of them. They were evidently approach- 
ing a clearing. Here they dropped on their 
hands and knees and crept along cautiously, tak- 
ing advantage of every bit of cover. In this way, 
creeping from bush to tree trimk, and from tree 
trunk to rock, they at length reached the edge 
of a little clearing. Peering through the un- 
derbrush they looked out upon the Hoodoo 
camp I 

It was in an open space, on a little knoll, just 
at a turn of the road. In the very center was a 
big oak tree, and around this oak they saw to 
their astonishment a large group of Redbirds. 

“Holy smoke!” whispered Bob. “They’ve 
got nearly the whole gang.” 

Bob was right. Sitting or lying on the ground 
about the tree in the center of the clearing were 
Fred Ashleigh, the Egg, and the greater part of 
their band guarded by several Hoodoos. Bob 
looked again more carefully and noticed that they 
were all tied to the tree with a piece of clothes- 
line. Even their hands were tied behind their 
backs. Evidently the Hoodoos did not mean to 
take any chances losing their prisoners. 

Alec counted them. “ There are twenty-one,” 
he said. 


REDDY MCTUBK SCORES 145 

“Great Scott I That means that there are 
only seven of us left, including the four fellows 
back at the camp,” whispered Bob. “ There 
must be another one of our fellows out in the 
woods somewhere.” 

As Bob and Alec lay watching from the 
bushes, the Hoodoos began to build fires, and in 
a few minutes the delicious smell of frying bacon 
reached the boys’ nostrils. In the excitement of 
the games they had not realized that it was sup- 
per-time. Now they began to feel hungry. 

“ My, that bacon smells good I ” whispered 
Alec. 

“ I want something besides smell,” replied 
Bob. 

“ That’s all we shall get here,” said Alec. 
“ The only way to get that food is to be cap- 
tured.” 

“ You’re right,” replied Bob. “We must beat 
it.” 

Back they crawled cautiously and in a few 
minutes they were at a safe distance from the 
Hoodoo camp. 

“ Well, now we certainly are up against it,” 
said Alec. 

Bob shook his head. “ You’re dead right,” he 


146 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

replied. “ The only thing for us to do is to hike 
for camp by the shortest cut. Perhaps after we 
have had something to eat we shall be able to 
think up a scheme for rescuing some of our 
crowd.” 

They struck off down the road at a good pace, 
and after following it for some distance cut 
through the valley. Crossing the brook on the 
stones they climbed the slope toward their own 
camp. They were tired and hungry but they 
could look forward to a cheery camp-fire and a 
hot supper. 

“ I hope the boys will have fires going,” said 
Alec. “ I’m as hungry as a grizzly bear.” 

“ So am I,” said Bob. “ Toasted frankfurters 
and pancakes for me ! ” 

“Yum-yum!” exclaimed Alec, smacking his 
lips. “ I can already taste them.” 

They walked up the path briskly toward the 
camp. Suddenly Bob stopped. 

Hold on, Alec,” he said. “ This doesn’t seem 
just right.” 

Alec turned toward him inquiringly, for Bob 
was looking straight ahead, keenly examining 
the path, and listening intently. 

“ Where are the sentries? ” he asked. “ I don’t 


REDDY MCTURK SCORES 147 

hear any voices, and I don’t see any signs of our 
men.” 

“ Probably they’re eating supper,” said Alec. 

Bob shook his head. “ I’ll tell you what,” he 
said, “ let’s work round to the slope of the hill 
behind the camp and look down and see what’s 
going on there. I’m kind of suspicious.” 

They struck into the woods to the right of the 
path and cautiously made their way up the slope 
until they were well behind the camp. Then they 
worked downward to the edge of the steep rocks 
where they could look over into the little hollow 
in which the camp lay. 

Bob studied the groimd below him for several 
moments. Then with a gasp he silently beckoned 
to Alec. 

‘‘ What do you know about that? ” he whis- 
pered. 

Grouped together in an angle of the rocks, 
their legs tied with clothes-line, sat the remain- 
ing five members of the Redbird party. Lying 
on the grass near by eating his supper, were 
Reddy McTurk and a half dozen Hoodoos. 
Again Reddy McTurk had scored. 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE TABLES TURNED 

Bob and AJec crawled into the woods, and 
when they were at a safe distance stopped for a 
council of war. For a minute or two neither of 
them spoke. Then Alec broke the silence. 

“ Well,” he said, “ what the dickens are we 
going to do for supper? ” 

“ Search me I ” exclaimed Bob. “ I guess we’ll 
have to go to bed hungry.” 

“ Bed? ” questioned Alec. Where? ” 

Bob grinned. “ I guess it’ll have to be the 
open air for us.” 

Alec shook his head. “ I don’t mind sleeping 
out,” he said. “ I’ve done that more than once. 
But I do mind going without supper. And 
there’s breakfast, too ! Gee ! Bob, I guess it’s all 
up with us.” 

Bob grinned again ruefully. “ It certainly 
looks bad, Alec,” he said, “ but it isn’t all up with 
us yet. Maybe we can find a comfortable place 
to sleep.” 


148 


THE TABLES TURNED 


149 


The next half hour the boys spent in cruising 
about looking for a sleeping place, which they 
found at last in a sheltered nook under the lee 
of a big boulder. A fallen tree made a partial 
barrier on one side, and a couple of friendly hem- 
locks furnished a roof. 

“This is bully 1” exclaimed Bob. “We 
couldn’t ask for anything better than this.” 

But Alec refused to be comforted. He was 
hungry and was almost ready to surrender him- 
self to the Hoodoos for the sake of getting some- 
thing to eat. Bob laughed at him, and though 
he was very himgry himself, he worked hard to 
keep up Alec’s spirits. 

“ Don’t be downhearted, Alec,” he said. 
“We’ll turn the tables on them to-morrow; see 
if we don’t.” 

For an hour or so they had a rather dismal 
time snuggled down in their retreat. The night 
was chilly and the mosquitoes soon found them 
out and attacked them industriously. Partly for 
warmth and partly to drive off the little pests 
they built a small fire. In doing this they knew 
that they ran the risk of being discovered, but 
they felt that it was necessary to take a few 
chances. 


150 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“ If we don’t build a fire, we shall either be 
eaten by mosquitoes or freeze to death,” said Bob. 

“ And if we do build a fire we may be captured. 
In that case we shall get something to eat,” said 
Alec, tossing on another stick of wood. 

The fire made it cozy and pleasant on the moss 
under the hemlocks; and the big boulder at their 
backs cut off the wind nicely. From time to 
time they fed the little fire with dry twigs. Soon 
they began to nod in spite of their hunger, and 
long before their usual bedtime they were both 
sound asleep. 

Several hours later Bob awoke with a sense of 
discomfort. He was cold. Not realizing where 
he was, he felt for his blankets. By degrees he 
awoke and smiled at his mistake. The fire had 
burned out, except for a few glowing coals. 
Fumbling about he found a handful of leaves and 
some twigs and threw them on the embers. After 
blowing them vigorously for a minute or two he 
succeeded in starting a blaze. The warmth was 
delicious, and he drew close to the fire. Presently 
he looked at his watch. It was twelve o’clock. 
Suddenly a thought struck him. Why not make 
a night attack on the camp that Reddy and his 
followers now held? Perhaps they could recap- 



IT TOOK ONLY A MINUTE TO MAKE HIM SECURE. 


I 



THE TABLES TURNED 


151 


ture some of their own men and take Reddy and 
his Hoodoos, too. The more he thought of it 
the better he liked the idea. He waked Alec and 
explained his plan. Alec was not enthusiastic. 

“ Oh, what’s the use? ” he said. “ They’ll 
have sentries. We can’t surprise them. I’m 
tired.” 

“ They’ll be sound asleep. I’ll bet,” said Bob. 

They must be as tired as we are; anyway let’s 
try it.” 

Electric torch in hand Bob led the way. Alec 
followed reluctantly, but was more enthusiastic 
when he became warm. After some difficulty 
they found the path to the camp. Quietly they 
crept forward. At the edge of the Hoodoo camp 
they came upon a sentry sound asleep. It took 
only a minute to make him secure. Bob gagged 
him with his handkerchief. Then leaving him 
with his hands tied behind his back and his 
shoes and stockings hidden in a bush near by, 
they stole silently up to the camp. As Bob had 
expected they found everyone sound asleep by 
the smouldering camp-fire. They had plenty of 
blankets and were too comfortable to be the least 
bit wakeful. Five Hoodoos besides Reddy Mc- 
Turk lay in a row on one side of the fire. On 


152 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

the other side, fastened to each other by a piece 
of clothes-line, lay a number of captive Redbirds. 
The end of the clothes-line was tied around 
Reddy’s leg. 

Bob and Alec lost no time. Quickly and 
quietly they untied the captives, and as quickly 
and quietly they tied up the sleeping Hoodoos. 
Bob was sorry there were not more. When all 
were secure, they twitched the rope that held 
them and gave a loud yell. Reddy ^IcTurk sat 
up and rubbed his eyes. One by one the other 
boys awoke blinking. 

“ Hey I What’s up? ” asked Reddy. 

“ You’re pinched, that’s all,” said Bob, flashing 
his electric torch in Reddy’s eyes. 

Reddy looked his disgust. “ Oh I say, cut it 
out, will you ! ” he exclaimed. 

Great was the rejoicing when the captured 
Redbirds were thoroughly awake; and how they 
laughed at Reddy and the other Hoodoos I As 
for Reddy, he was thoroughly crestfallen. Up 
to this point he had been wholly successful. It 
had looked as if the games were going to be a 
clean sweep for the Hoodoos. But now here he 
was a prisoner with five of his men I The tables 
were turned. He was still more disgusted when 


THE TABLES TURNED 


153 


Alec went out and presently returned with the 
captured sentry. 

“ You’re to blame for this,” Reddy declared. 
“ If you hadn’t been asleep at your post we 
shouldn’t be prisoners now.” 

The luckless sentry looked sheepish and made 
no reply. The shoes and stockings of all the 
captured Hoodoos were taken away and hidden; 
then a watch was set and the boys turned in again. 
Bob himself stood guard for the first hour. Then 
he woke one of the Redbirds and lay down for a 
snooze. 

Breakfast was rather late in the Redbird camp 
next morning, but it was a happy occasion — at 
least for the Redbirds. The seven captured Hoo- 
doos sat barefoot in a row, looking on while the 
Redbirds prepared and ate the morning meal. 
There was much laughter, and many jokes were 
made at the expense of the unfortunate captives. 

After breakfast Bob called a council of war. 

“ Fellows,” he said, “ the Hoodoos will play 
safe from now on. They are ’way ahead of us, 
and their game will be to hold their prisoners and 
not lose any more of their own men. When they 
don’t hear from Reddy they will likely send a 
couple of fellows over here to see if everything 


154 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

is all right. Now we must get those fellows with- 
out fail. So I am going to post skirmishers down 
the path to watch for any Hoodoos.” 

Things turned out exactly as Bob had ex- 
pected. Not hearing from Reddy, Tommy 
Fielder sent a couple of boys to look for him. 
The Redbirds lying in wait by the path easily 
captured both of them. Two hours later a second 
pair whom Tommy had sent out were captured. 
This made eleven prisoners in all. Bob was 
elated at the success of his plan. 

We are evening things up, fellows,” he said. 
“ Tommy himself may come next to look for 
Reddy, and we must lay a trap for him. We’ll 
leave one fellow at the camp to watch the pris- 
oners, and the other six of us will lie in wait down 
the path. If Tommy and his crowd come we 
must ambush them. Each fellow must bag his 
man. If we can do this we may win.” 

Again fortune smiled upon the Redbirds. 
Soon after dinner Tommy and a half dozen Hoo- 
doos were ambushed near the Redbirds’ camp, 
and though Tommy succeeded in escaping, four 
of his men were triumphantly brought in. 

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful. 
The Hoodoos were still ahead in prisoners and 


THE TABLES TURNED 


155 


evidently concluded to take no chances; they in- 
tended to play safe. After supper Bob held an- 
other council of war. 

“We have bagged fifteen Hoodoos,” he said. 
“ That leaves thirteen of them at large. Now 
they hold twenty-one of our fellows and there 
are only seven of us left. They are therefore 
six ahead of us. We must even up somehow, and 
we have only till nine o’clock to-morrow to do it. 
The time is getting short.” 

“ Can’t we recapture some of our own crowd? ” 
asked Alec Thompson. 

“ A good idea. It’s worth trying, I think,” 
said Bob. “ Has anyone a plan to suggest? ” 

Nobody could suggest anything except a silent 
midnight raid such as Bob and Alec had made 
the night before. So it was decided that two 
boys should be left at the camp to guard the 
prisoners, while Bob and Alec with the others 
to assist them should try to rescue their comrades 
at the Hoodoo camp. It was a desperate plan, 
but the time was now short and if the Redbirds 
were to win they must take long chances. 

About midnight, accordingly. Bob and his four 
companions set out. A waning moon dimly 
lighted up the woods. They crossed the brook 


156 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

and struck into the old road that led to the Hoo- 
doo camp. All at once Bob, who was leading the 
file, saw a large dark object in the road ahead. 
He stopped instantly and peered through the 
half-light, trying to make out what it was. 

“ What is it, Bob? ” whispered the boy behind 
him. 

In reply Bob pointed at the object in the path 
ahead. Silently the boys crowded together and 
peered down the path. Presently the object 
moved. 

It’s — it’s some kind of an animal,” said Alec 
in shaky tones. 

” Do you suppose it’s a bear? ” asked one of 
the boys. 

“ Maybe,” replied Alec; “ bears have been seen 
about here.” 

The boys stood still, scarcely controlling an im- 
pulse to run, and gazed at the black bulk in the 
shadows ahead. Suddenly the unknown monster 
shook itself and made a noise that was half sneeze 
and half cough. Bob laughed. A light had 
dawned upon him. The strange animal must be 
an old horse. He had seen it grazing in the road 
Saturday before when he had been trailing the 
Hoodoo leaders in their search for a camp-site. 


THE TABLES TURNED 


157 


Approaching the animal he found that his con- 
jecture was correct. At sight of the old broken- 
down horse an idea came to him. If they had 
been startled by the horse in the dim light, why 
wouldn’t the Hoodoos be startled, too? Why not 
use the horse to help them recapture their com- 
rades? Hastily Bob explained his plan. It met 
with enthusiastic approval. 

“Wait a minute!” exclaimed Bob suddenly. 
“ Has anybody got a white piece of cloth? ” 

“ What for? ” asked Alec. 

“ To decorate the old nag and make him look 
queer and ghost-like. ” 

“ Say ! that’s a bully idea, Bob I ” cried several 
boys. 

A few minutes later the horse was decorated 
with a white handkerchief over each ear and sev- 
eral undershirts hanging from his flanks. 

“ Gosh! I’d hate to meet that horse in the 
dark now and not know what it was,” said Alec. 
“ You sure have got a great head on you. Bob. I 
can just picture those Hoodoos.” 

Tying a rope round the neck of the outlandish- 
looking animal they started up the road again. 

A few yards up the road a sentry challenged 
them in a trembling voice. Bob did not reply 


158 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

but led the old horse into the woods. Again the 
sentry challenged; his voice broke as he did so. 
Then as if he understood what was wanted, the 
old horse sneezed. “ Great Scott ! ” they heard 
the sentry exclaim. “ What — what is it? ” 

For half a minute there was silence. Then Bob 
prodded the old nag with a stick. The animal 
gave a little jump and a squeal that was half 
grunt. This was too much for the sentry, and 
he turned and ran to the camp a few yards far- 
ther on. “ Hey, Tommy! ” they heard him call. 
“ There’s something — awful — awful queer down 
the road there.” 

A murmur of voices rose from the camp. 
Then several boys came slowly along the road, 
stopping every few steps to listen and peer 
through the darkness. Suddenly as if at a signal 
from Bob the horse began to paw the ground. 

“There! Look! Do you hear that?” they 
heard one of the boys say. “ Seel it moves.” 

“ What the dickens is it? ” asked another. 

Here Bob again prodded the old horse in the 
ribs. The obedient beast jumped and squealed. 
This was too much. The Hoodoos turned and 
ran wildly back to the camp just as the sentry had 
done before. The whole camp was now in a 


THE TABLES TURNED 


159 


hubbub. Everybody seemed to be awake, and 
everybody was asking questions or trying to 
make explanations. Bob felt that now was the 
time to assault in force; so he struck the old 
horse a resounding slap. The old nag jumped and 
lumbered forward toward the camp, crashing 
noisily about in the underbrush. As he plunged 
through the bushes into the little clearing where 
the camp lay the Hoodoos scattered. In the con- 
fusion that followed Bob and his companions 
rescued their captured comrades. 

“ For the love of Mike I ** exclaimed the Egg 
as he recognized Bob. “Are you the cause of all 
this row? ” 

“ That’s what, Eggie,” said Bob. “ Where’s 
Fred? ” 

“ Here I am, Tenderfoot,” called Fred’s cheer- 
ful voice. 

There was much rejoicing among the Red- 
birds. The prisoners were released, and here 
they were all together except for the two whom 
Bob had left behind in charge of the prisoners at 
their own camp. 

“Well, now,” said Fred, “we’d better take 
along with us anything that would come in handy 
in the way of eats.” 


160 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

This was a good suggestion. The Hoodoos* 
supplies were raided. Every Redbird took some- 
thing, if not something to eat then a blanket, and 
with their booty they set off for their own camp. 
How they yelled and cheered! There was no 
longer any need for silence. They had com- 
pletely turned the tables on their opponents. 

When they reached their own camp they found 
everybody awake and eagerly awaiting their re- 
turn. At sight of Reddy McTurk and the four- 
teen other prisoners Fred Ashleigh and the Egg 
laughed heartily. 

“ Well, Reddy,** called Fred, “ I’d never be- 
lieve it of you. How could you let a Tenderfoot 
put it over on you? ’* 

Reddy grinned ruefully. “ You needn’t laugh, 
old man. It took a Tenderfoot to rescue you.” 

“ That’s right,” Fred acknowledged. “ If it 
hadn’t been for Bob and his ghost-horse we 
should be prisoners still, and you fellows would 
have won the games.” 

Though it was now one o’clock nobody was in 
the mood to go to bed. The fire was heaped high 
with wood. The flames rose in the air, lighting 
up the rocks and the surrounding trees. Then 
the food captured from the Hoodoo camp was 


THE TABLES TURNED 161 


passed around and there was a feast. For more 
than an hour the boys sat about the fire eating 
and singing. Then sentries were posted and they 
rolled up in their blankets and went to sleep. 

“ Well, Bob, this is better than last night, isn’t 
it? ” said Alec Thompson, as he settled down for 
the night. 

“ It sure is,” declared Bob. 


CHAPTER XIV 


BACK AT THE SCOUT CAMP 

Breakfast was late at the Redbird camp. 
After the strenuous sport of the past two days, 
ending with the midnight attack and the late sup- 
per of the night before, the boys were tired and 
sleepy. Fred did not hurry them but let them 
lie in their warm blankets and get thoroughly 
rested. 

“ You see,” he explained in reply to Bob’s in- 
quiry, “ it’s a part of our duties as officers to see 
that the fellows keep in good condition. We 
have practically won the games already. Be- 
tween now and nine o’clock there’s not much 
chance of Tommy being able to beat us out with 
the small crowd he has left; so we may as well 
take things a little easy.” 

At half -past seven Fred blew Reveille. This 
was the first time he had used his bugle since the 
games started. Now he did it partly as a note 
of defiance to the defeated Hoodoos. They 
would hear the call ringing out across the valley 
162 


BACK AT THE SCOUT CAMP 163 

and realize that it was an announcement of 
triumph. 

The boys slowly turned out and were soon busy 
with breakfast. They sang as they fried their 
bacon or cooked their pancakes, cracking jokes at 
the expense of their prisoners. Reddy and his 
fellow Hoodoos took their defeat good-naturedly. 

“ After all you never would have beaten us by 
yourselves,” said Reddy. ‘'You had to ring in Si 
Turtelotte’s old horse. That was hardly fair.” 

“ Oh, don’t squeal, Reddy, you were fairly 
beaten,” said Fred. “ There was nothing in the 
rules against using horses or anything else we 
could ring in to help us out.” 

“We only sent in our cavalry to finish off,” 
said Bob. “ That’s where we showed good tac- 
tics.” 

“ I’ll bet Tommy and his crowd are having a 
slim breakfast this morning,” said the Egg. 
“We cleaned up about everything they had last 
night.” 

The Egg was right about the slim breakfast of 
the Hoodoos. At nine o’clock Fred got out his 
bugle and sent the long notes of Victory ringing 
out over the hills. A few minutes later the Red- 
bird sentry appeared, followed by Tommy 


164 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

Fielder and the remains of his band. Tommy 
halted and held up his hands grinning. 

“ Kamerad! ” he called. 

There was a shout from the Redbirds and cries 
of “Go home, you German! Back to your 
trenches, Fritzie Boy.” Tommy waited patiently 
until the Redbirds had quieted down. 

“ Well, fellows, time’s up now and the games 
are over,” he said. “ You’ve licked us good and 
plenty, that’s sure. If you’ve got anything left 
that we can set our teeth into, for Pete’s sake let 
us have it. We didn’t have much but crumbs for 
breakfast.” 

“ You’re just in time to clean up the grub. 
Tommy,” said Fred. “ It would be a pity to 
have to take any back.” 

So Tommy and his hungry crowd scoured the 
camp, eating up everything that was left in the 
way of food. At first they were too busy to talk, 
but when they had taken the edge off their ap- 
petites they were more sociable. 

“ Well,” said Tommy, shaking his head as he 
sat on the ground beside Bob munching crackers 
and cheese, “ I thought we had you. You see 
Reddy knew your plans, so we could watch every 
move you took. Up to last night everything 


BACK AT THE SCOUT CAMP 165 

went all right for us. I don’t see now how you 
beat us out. Only I never saw anything that 
scared me so much at first as that old horse 
draped with white. That was a clever idea.” 

“ It was this Tenderfoot here who did it,” said 
Reddy, laughing and nodding to Bob. “ He led 
the night attack that canned me and my raiding 
party at the camp the first night, and he led the 
attack on the camp that got back all the prisoners 
last night.” 

Tommy Fielder smiled good-naturedly at Bob. 
“ Well, you did a mighty good job for a Tender- 
foot,” he said. “ Knowing your plans as we did, 
the chances were all in our favor, and for a while 
things seemed to work our way. You certainly 
outmanoeuvred us at the end, though. We shall 
have to admit that.” 

The boys made short work of packing up for 
their return, and an hour after setting out they 
filed into camp, Redbirds intermingled with 
Hoodoos in friendly comradeship. They were in 
high spirits. The games had been a great suc- 
cess. They had tested their woodcraft, their 
energy, and their resources. There had not been 
an accident even of the slightest kind, and every- 
one had returned feeling thoroughly fit. 


166 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

Mr. McGregor and Mr. Bradley greeted tHem 
cordially. “ It’s fine to have you back, boys,” 
said the Commissioner. “ It’s been mighty lone- 
some without you.” 

“ It’s good to be back, sir,” answered Fred. 

Gathering round Mr. McGregor the boys gave 
him an account of their expedition. He listened 
with amused interest, and when they came to the 
tale of the attack on the Hoodoo camp and the 
charge by Si Turtelotte’s old horse he laughed 
long and loudly. 

“ Well,” he said, ** I had planned to give a 
prize to the boy who did the best work on either 
side. I said nothing about it before because I 
wanted it to be a surprise. Now tell me who 
you think deserves it.” 

There was a pause. The boys looked at each 
other, each hesitating to speak first. Then Reddy 
McTurk spoke. 

“ Well, Uncle, it*s a little hard for us older 
Scouts to have to admit that we had it put over 
us by a Tenderfoot, but it’s a fact. This snake- 
charmer and turtle-catcher here is the boy that 
deserves the prize.” As he spoke he took Bob 
by the arm and pulled him forward. 

Mr. McGregor smiled. “ Reddy has given his 


BACK AT THE SCOUT CAMP 167 

opinion,’* he said. “ Has anyone else anything 
to say? ” 

“ I guess Reddy is about right,” said Fred 
Ashleigh. “ If it hadn’t been for Bob, the Red- 
birds would have been licked good and hard. 
You’re the goods all right. Kid,” he added, slap- 
ping Bob on the shoulder. 

Bob protested. It was Reddy McTurk, he de- 
clared, who deserved the prize. But Bob was 
overruled. The unanimous opinion was that he 
had done more than any other one Scout on either 
side. 

“ You’ll have to give in. Bob,” said Mr. Mc- 
Gregor. “ You’re modest; and I’m glad you 
are, but there’s no doubt that you deserve the 
prize.” 

Here the Commissioner drew from his pocket 
what looked like an automatic pistol and held it 
out to Bob. 

“ Don’t be afraid,” he said. “ It isn’t as dan- 
gerous as it looks. It’s only a new model electric 
flashlight. I’m glad for you to have it, and I’m 
sure you’ll find it useful.” 

It was indeed a beauty. Without the closest 
inspection it would have passed for what it looked 
to be — a deadly automatic pistol. 


168 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

After dinner the Gang once more met at their 
old rendezvous on the Crow’s Nest. The mail 
had just come and all of the boys had letters from 
home. Bob had a long one from his father. “ I 
was glad to get your letter saying that you had 
become a Scout,” he wrote. “ If ever the world 
needed men it needs them now. The Scout move- 
ment is preparing the boys of to-day to be the 
men of to-morrow, the men who will have to take 
their places in the new world and play their part 
in meeting its demands. Welcome every oppor- 
tunity to develop your physical strength and your 
mental alertness. Be a good Scout and you will 
grow into a better man.” 

As he lay there on the soft moss of the big rock 
Bob thought over the events of the past few 
weeks. How his ideals had changed! He 
flushed with shame as he remembered that he had 
once thought of the Scouts as “ rough necks.” 
How silly he had been! He thought of Ted 
Patrick and his former close friends and how 
Ted had warned him to keep away from the 
Scouts if he wanted to belong to a high school 
fraternity. “ I don’t care if I never join a frat,” 
he said to himself. “ These boys here are good 
enough for me ! ” Then the words of his father’s 


BACK AT THE SCOUT CAMP 169 


letter came into his mind: “ Be a good Scout and 
you will grow into a better man.” 

“ I’ll take Dad’s word for it,” he said to him- 
self. “ I’ll show them that I can be a good Scout, 
and I guess that the rest will take care of itself.” 


CHAPTER XV 


THE THREE-DAY HIKE 

For several days the Overnight Games were 
the chief topic of conversation among the boys. 
Gradually, however, new interests absorbed the 
attention of the camp. Bob found no lack of 
things to do from day to day. Mr. McGregor 
was a past master of the art of handling boys and 
he contrived always to have something on foot to 
keep them busy. Bob discovered that Mr. Brad- 
ley was an expert canoeist and he took great 
pleasure in going out on the lake with him and 
learning to do “ stunts.” He soon was able to 
handle his canoe with ease. Under Fred Ash- 
leigh’s urging he also improved his swimming 
and began to practise diving. He made rapid 
progress at this also, and lost all fear of the water. 

One morning after he had dismissed Assembly 
Mr. McGregor asked Bob and Fred to remain. 
“ You’re getting on first-rate. Bob,” he said. 
“ You’re making good as a Scout all right. I 
170 


THE THREE -BAY HIKE 


171 


think it’s time, however, for you to get away 
for a few days on a hike. I want you and Fred to 
plan to leave camp about next Thursday for a 
fifty-mile hike.” 

“ Fifty miles! ” exclaimed Bob. 

“ Yes, it will take you three days. Talk it 
over together, get your kit and your supplies 
ready, and choose your route. I want you to 
learn what it means to be thrown entirely on your 
own resources for a few days. I think you’ll have 
the time of your lives.” 

Bob was surprised and pleased at Mr. Mc- 
Gregor’s suggestion. Since he had been at camp 
several of the older boys had gone on long trips 
that had taken them away for a few days, and 
when they returned they had told great tales of 
their experiences. Bob had been hoping that he 
might go on such a hike himself and had even 
mentioned it to Fred. He realized now that 
Fred had probably spoken of the matter to Mr. 
McGregor and that to his friend’s thoughtful- 
ness he owed his present chance to make the de- 
sired trip. After a short talk with the Commis- 
sioner Bob and Fred hurried off to tell the Gang 
about their intended journey and to make their 
plans. They assembled at the Crow’s Nest and 


172 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

spent the next hour or so deciding on a route. 
Reddy and the Egg were as usual free with sug- 
gestions. They were both old Scouts and fa- 
miliar with the neighboring country. With their 
assistance Bob and Fred finally laid out their 
course on a map, clearly marking each stage of 
the journey. 

The next few days dragged slowly. It 
seemed to Bob as if Thursday would never come, 
and his impatience grew as it drew near. A 
dozen times a day he pulled his map from his 
pocket and spreading it out before him studied 
it intently. The casual observer would have seen 
nothing but a confused mass of dots and letters 
and tangled lines, but to Bob there was something 
magical about his map. For what delightful pos- 
sibilities of adventure lay hidden in the country- 
side which it represented! With his finger he 
traced slowly the course that Fred and he had 
laid out for the three-day journey. At the end 
of the first day they would have reached this little 
cross which he had made with a blue pencil; or 
perhaps if they walked a little faster they would 
get to this other little cross a few miles farther 
on. At the end of the second day they would 
have reached still another little blue cross, fifteen 


THE THREE-DAY HIKE 173 


or sixteen miles farther, and the third night they 
would have completed their circuit and be back 
at the Scout camp again. In all it would be a 
fifty-mile tramp. “ Some journey, Joe Miller,” 
be said to himself. “ And suppose it should rain. 
That would be nice, wouldn’t it? ” 

Thursday came at last, and after much packing 
and repacking they were ready to start. The 
Egg and Reddy McTurk were on hand to help 
them, though their assistance was of doubtful 
value. The Egg was generous with advice. 

“ Got any snake medicine with you. Bob? ” he 
asked. And when Bob answered that he had 
not, the Egg told him that he was making a mis- 
take. 

“ It’s easy to see that you were cut out for a 
snake-charmer,” he said, “ from the way that one 
by the lake took to you. I shouldn’t be a bit sur- 
prised if some old rattler laid for you on this trip 
to make his mark on you.” 

“ Oh, cut it out, Eggie! You make me nerv- 
ous,” said Fred. “ There hasn’t been a rattler 
seen in this country here for years.” 

“ There hasn’t, eh ! ” said the Egg. “ If that’s 
what you think, you ought to go talk with Si 
Turtelotte. He says that when he runs out of 


174 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

cash he catches a rattler before breakfast and 
boxes him up and sends him to the New York 
Natural History Museum. They give him five 
dollars apiece for ’em.” 

“ Ho, ho ! Do you believe Si Turtelotte’s 
yams? ” said Fred scornfully. “ The only time 
he ever saw snakes was when he used to look into 
the nose of a big black bottle.” 

Mr. McGregor was on hand to give them a 
hand-shake and a few words of advice. “ If any- 
thing happens, send me a telegram or call me up 
by telephone. Remember that you will never be 
many miles distant from a telephone or telegraph 
ofiiee.” 

In spite of their attempts to get an early start, 
it was nearly nine o’clock before they left camp. 
The morning was beautiful and sunny with a 
promise of greater heat in the air. For the first 
mile or so they were accompanied by an escort 
of boys, but at length their admirers left them 
and they were at last on their journey. The first 
three or four miles of their way led through the 
hills. As the heat of the sun increased their packs 
grew heavier every moment. Several times they 
stopped to rest. 

*‘Tbis frying-pan is a nuisance I” exclaimed 


THE THREE -DAY HIKE 175 

Bob, stopping for the fourth time to readjust it. 
“ I don’t see why we brought it anyway.” 

“ You’ll see to-night when we make flapjacks,” 
answered Fred. “ They’ll taste mighty good 
with maple syrup.” 

As a matter of fact the boys were carrying 
pretty heavy loads. Knapsacks, blanket rolls, 
canteens, hatchets, and cooking utensils made a 
wearisome burden. The blanket rolls gave them 
most trouble, for besides being heavy, they were 
hot and they chafed their shoulders. To make 
things worse, one of Fred’s shoes rubbed his foot 
somewhat and made walking uncomfortable. 

They went on until one o’clock, however, and 
then stopped for luncheon. They had followed 
for five or six miles the valley in which the Scout 
camp lay and then climbed over the hill into an- 
other valley where they found themselves on the 
hillside above a big reservoir. 

Picking out a shady place in the edge of the 
woods overlooking the lake, they threw off their 
loads and lay down to rest. 

For some time they felt too tired and hot to 
eat, or even talk. They lay stretched at full 
length on the ground, enjoying the gentle breeze 
that fanned their faces. Fred took off his shoes 


176 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

in order to rest his feet. When both boys were 
somewhat refreshed they opened their packs and 
ate lunch. 

Then Bob spread out his map. “ Here we 
are/’ he said, indicating their position with his 
pencil. “We followed the valley along this road. 
Then we crossed the stream over this bridge, and 
followed the road to the left up over this hill. 
This is the Park Lake Reservoir,” he said, read- 
ing slowly from the map, “ and as near as I can 
make out we’ve walked about ten miles.” 

“ That isn’t bad considering the heat,” said 
Fred. “ Besides, my foot has bothered me a good 
deal. I think we’d better lie round here till it 
gets cooler. Walking will be easier then! ” 

“ Good idea! ” said Bob. 

Weariness and the heat had their effect on 
the boys. In a short time they were both asleep. 

Bob was first to wake up. He had forgotten 
where he was and had a vague feeling that some- 
one was talking to him. As he became more fully 
awake he rose to his elbow and looked about him. 
Fred lay on the ground a short distance away, 
apparently still sound asleep. While Bob sat 
there listening he heard voices. Where did they 
come from? Looking round he listened intently. 


THE THREE-DAY HIKE 177 


Yes, someone was talking. The low murmur of 
voices came from beyond the fringe of bushes to 
his left. Suddenly one of the voices was raised 
impatiently and he distinctly heard the words, 
“ Of course I’m not an American, you fool. Not 
me!” 

The import of the words and the slightly for- 
eign accent roused him like a shot. Instantly his 
drowsiness was gone. He was wide awake. This 
looked like trouble. 

With the utmost caution he began creeping 
through the bushes at his left. He moved very 
slowly, looking carefully in every direction and 
with every sense alert. The sound of the voices 
continued. A minute later Bob came to the edge 
of the high bank. Peering over, he saw directly 
below him not fifteen feet away, two men seated 
on the ground. One wore a special policeman’s 
uniform and the other was dressed in the rough 
clothes of a laborer. Both men were smoking 
pipes. 

“ It’s easy,” said the laborer who spoke with 
an accent. “ You don’t take no chances because 
you don’t see nothin’ — you stand on guard at six 
o’clock. The other fellow is in bed. So he don’t 
see nothin’. I fix this — see? ” Here the man 


178 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

glanced quickly about and Bob dropped down in 
the bushes. Then the fellow continued with an 
evil leer, “ I put the bomb under the dam by the 
sluice — see? You don’t see nothin’. You’re on 
the other side of the dam — remember that! ” 

“ Yes, yes, I know,” exclaimed the policeman 
impatiently. “ I’m paid to guard the dam and if 
anything happens I see where I get sent up for 
ten or fifteen years, if I get pinched.” 

“ You won’t get pinched, you fool. You don’t 
see nothin’, that’s all.” 

“ But how do you make your getaway? 
There’s the telephone at the shack. If I don’t 
call up the sheriff at Butler the other fellow will. 
The whole coimtry’ll be looking for you inside 
of half an hour.” 

“ Say, you are a kid, ain’t you? I want you 
to telephone. That’ll help save your skin, but 
it won’t hurt me ’cause the wires is cut. I’ll see 
to that.” 

The policeman smoked in silence for a while. 
“ How much do I get out of it? ” he asked at 
length. 

The foreigner hesitated a little. Evidently he 
was uncertain how much would be sufficient to 
bribe his man. “ Fifty dollars,” he said. 


THE THREE-BAY HIKE 179 


This was greeted with a contemptuous laugh. 
“ Fifty dollars ! Did you think I was such a 
cheap skate as that? Take another think.” 

“ Make it a hundred, then,” replied the for- 
eigner with a scowl. 

That’s more like it,” said the other. “ You’re 
getting warmer. Make it two hundred and we’ll 
call it a trade. I sure need the money.” After 
some haggling a hundred and fifty dollars was 
decided upon as the price of the special policeman 
to “ see nothin’,” and the money was paid over 
in bills. Bob lay at the top of the bank, his heart 
thumping and his cheeks flaming with excitement 
as he watched the foreigner count out a hun- 
dred and fifty dollars and give it to the police- 
man. 

“ I guess you don’t want a receipt for this, do 
you? ” asked the policeman, grinning and stuffing 
the bills into a dirty leather pocketbook. 

“No, I guess not,” replied the foreigner. “ I 
got no boss to show it to. I’m a Red and we 
Reds don’t recognize no bosses never. We’re all 
equals. Even the worst of us is as good as the 
best of us. An’ wait till the Reds rule this here 
country; you want to be on the right side. This 
here little bit of fireworks to-night is just a be^ 


180 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

ginnin’. You’ll see how cap’tal falls like in 
Russia and how us Reds ” 

The fellow would have gone on indefinitely if 
the Special had not asked him what time he in- 
tended to blow up the dam. 

“Nine o’clock to-night. I blow up the sluice 
and the water runs out. It’s the first step toward 
equality and ” 

“ All right, all right,” interrupted the Special. 
“ I’m supposed to act scared and to call for help 
and try to telephone, am I? I get you.” 

After some further words the two men rose 
and separated. The policeman sauntered, pipe 
in mouth, down the open hillside toward the dam, 
while the foreigner disappeared in the woods 
close at hand. 


CHAPTER XVI 

SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE 

For several minutes after the men disappeared 
Bob lay in his hiding place with conflicting emo- 
tions. While they had sat there below him dis- 
cussing their treacherous plot Bob’s senses had 
been keyed up to a high pitch. His ears had 
been strained to hear every syllable that was 
spoken, and his eyes had taken in every detail of 
the men’s appearance. Now that they were gone 
and the seriousness of the situation came over 
him Bob was appalled. Would anyone ever have 
believed that such a thing could happen to him? 
It was like the sort of thing that one read about 
in detective stories, but nobody ever expected it 
to happen to oneself. And here it was, a vicious 
plot to blow up the reservoir. If carried out it 
would injure the reservoir to the value of thou- 
sands of dollars, cause serious inconvenience and 
perhaps even suffering and distress to thousands 
181 


182 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

of people who were dependent on this water sup- 
ply; there would be a flood that would entail 
great property loss and loss of life in the valley 
below. Here was a critical situation to meet, 
the greatest crisis ever presented to him. What 
should he do? 

First he must tell Fred about it and together 
they would devise a plan. Crawling back 
through the bushes Bob found Fred still asleep. 
After being shaken several times he sat up and 
rubbed his eyes. 

“ Hello I ” he said. “ I must have had quite a 
nap.” 

Bob said nothing. He was still feeling upset 
by what he had seen and heard. Something in 
his manner struck Fred as unusual and he looked 
at Bob keenly. 

“Well, what’s up?” he asked. “You look 
awfully queer.” 

“ You’ll look queer, too,” said Bob, “ when I 
tell you what I’ve just heard.” Then he told 
Fred all that had gone on beyond the bushes. 

Fred was speechless with astonishment. 

“ Well,” he said at last, “ we’re up against 
something real. Matey, and now’s the time to 
show what our Scout training has done for us. 


SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE 183 

We must not only think it out, but we must put 
it through. What time did the fellow say the 
thing was to be pulled off? ” 

“ Nine o’clock.” 

Fred looked at his watch. “ It’s now half-past 
three.” 

“ There’s plenty of time to get help.” 

“ But how and where from? ” 

“ Couldn’t we go down to the dam and tell the 
other guard? ” 

“ How could we do it without making the 
bribed one suspicious? If he smells a mouse he’ll 
put the foreigner wise and the thing will only be 
postponed. We’re just boys but there are two 
of us and we’re Americans/^ 

“ Couldn’t we get word to the loyal guard by 
waiting till after six o’clock when the other goes 
on duty? We could even ask to use the telephone 
and call up help in that way.” 

“ That would work all right, perhaps, so long 
as the fellow who has been bribed doesn’t see us. 
If we can manage to keep out of his sight and 
find a way to tell our story to the honest guy we 
can then work out a plan with him to catch both 
of the conspirators.” 

“ That’s the thing to do.” 


184 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“Now what’s the nearest place that we 
should be likely to get a sheriff from? ” 

Bob got out his map. “ Butler seems to be 
the nearest place of any size,” he said. 

“ How far away is it? ” 

Bob calculated the distance on the map 
roughly, “ About six miles, as nearly as I can 
make out.” 

“ If we could get a telephone message to the 
sheriff in Butler he could probably get here with 
a posse in three-quarters of an hour.” 

“ Yes, if the road is half decent.” 

“ Well, the first thing for us to do is to see if 
we can’t get hold of the honest guard. He must 
be on duty now.” 

By working through the bushes the boys 
reached a place from which they could see the 
dam and the shack without being observed them- 
selves. They could see the two guards sitting 
on a bench near the dam. There was no . ’mg to 
do but wait. But though they waited for more 
than an hour the two men did not go out of each 
other’s sight. It looked as if the dishonest guard 
were purposely keeping the other under observa- 
tion. 

“ Couldn’t one of us sneak down to the shack 


SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE 185 

and telephone without being seen? ” suggested 
Bob. 

But Fred pointed at the position of the build- 
ing. It stood out in the open only a few rods 
from the dam and some distance from any cover. 
It would be impossible for anyone to get to it 
without being noticed. 

“ You’d have to wait till dark,” he said. 

“ And it isn’t dark till eight o’clock or so,” said 
Bob. 

There seemed nothing to do but wait. But 
though they waited another long hour their 
chances looked no better, and when at six o’clock 
both men proceeded to eat their supper together 
sitting on a bench in front of the shack, the situa- 
tion began to appear hopeless. 

“ Only three hours more ! ” exclaimed Fred. 
“ Something must be done quickly. We can’t 
afford to leave everything to the chance of telling 
our st'" ^ or of using the telephone in the shack. 
One of us must hoof it to Butler for the sheriff, 
while the other one stays here on the job.” 

“ Let me go, Fred,” said Bob. 

Fred shook his head. Then he said slowly, 
“ No, Kid, I can’t do that. I’m more used to 
hiking about in the woods by myself at all times 


186 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

of the day and night and I think I could probably 
get to Butler more quickly than you could. You 
stay here and watch, and if you see a chance to 
do anything, why, pull yourself together, grit 
your teeth, and go to it.” 

Taking Bob’s map Fred studied it carefully 
for a minute or two. “ The main road seems to 
run up through the valley,” he said, “ but there’s 
a short cut over the hills marked here that ought 
to save a couple of miles. That’s the way for me 
to go.” 

“ Better go by the plainest road,” said Bob. 

Fred laughed. “ When you’ve been a Scout 
as long as I have,” he said, “ you won’t worry 
about following a trail. I ought to get into But- 
ler by a quarter to eight and be back here with 
the sheriff by half-past eight or quarter to nine 
at the latest. That doesn’t leave much of a 
margin, but it’s enough.” 

“ All right,” said Bob. “ I’ll stick here on the 
watch, and if I see any way to tell my story to 
the fellow down there at the dam or to telephone 
I’ll do it.” 

Fred tightened his belt, pulled down the brim 
of his hat, and set off along the road. Bob 
watched him till he disappeared; then he returned 


SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE 187 


to his watch. Again the words in his father’s 
letter came before his mind: “ If ever the world 
needed men, it needs them now. Be a good Scout 
and you will grow into a better man.” 

Bob shut his teeth with a snap. 


CHAPTER XVII 


ALONE AT THE RESERVOIR 

For a time after Fred had gone Bob felt very 
lonely. Here he was left absolutely by himself 
to deal with a dangerous situation. Somewhere 
hiding in the woods near by was a man of desper- 
ate character, bent on carrying out a plan for the 
destruction of the reservoir, .and ready to use 
any means for executing it. Bob had no doubt 
that he was armed and that he would not hesitate 
to use force even to the extent of committing 
murder to accomplish his ends. The bribed Spe- 
cial, if not a dangerous character, was neverthe- 
less unscrupulous and would be likely to shut 
his eyes to any act of violence. The loyal guard 
was the one hopeful element in the problem. As 
he lay there on the hillside. Bob tried to comfort 
himself by thinking of the guard as his friend. 
If they could only get in touch with each other 
the problem of foiling the enemy would be solved. 
“ Yes, Joe Miller,” said Bob to himself, “ it’s up 
188 


ALONE AT THE RESERVOIR 189 

to me to get hold of the loyal American. He and 
I together can spoil the whole dirty game.” 

But as time wore on no opportunity presented 
itself. For another hour or so after Fred had 
gone both policemen remained about the shack 
talking. Occasionally the bribed Special would 
stroll across the dam to the other side of the 
reseiwoir, but he was never out of sight of the 
other for more than a minute or two. Meanwhile 
Bob satisfied his hunger with some crackers and 
cheese from his pack, washed down with water 
from his canteen. The water was warm but Bob 
did not dare leave his hiding place to go for fresh 
water. 

At length, to his great relief, the sun dropped 
behind the opposite hill and the valley was filled 
with shadows. By degrees the shadows deepened 
and dusk came on. Soon he would be able to get 
down to the shack without being seen. His heart 
thumped at the thought, and his cheeks began to 
burn. “ I wonder if I’m afraid,” he asked him- 
self. Then the words of the Scout Law fiashed 
into his mind: “ A Scout is brave. He has the 
courage to face danger in spite of fear.” Was 
he brave? He didn’t know. He would try to 
be, anyway. 


190 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

He looked at his watch. It was quarter to 
eight. Fred must be just getting into Butler. 
Help would soon be on the way. It was almost 
dark. In a few minutes he would go down to the 
shack. All at once he saw the loyal guard dis- 
appear behind the shack to reappear a minute or 
two later with a motorcycle. Bob’s heart gave a 
leap. Could it be that the guard was going 
away? He watched him breathlessly. The man 
bent over the machine. All at once it began to 
chug-chug, and then to Bob’s dismay, the guard 
jumped on the machine and dashed off up the 
road. 

Here was a situation indeed! His friend was 
gone ! He was now entirely alone. What should 
he do? For a minute or two he felt helpless and 
almost hopeless. There was nothing to do now, 
he told himself, but to wait for Fred to come with 
help. He could do nothing alone. But was that 
true? The words spoken by Mr. McGregor at 
his initiation as a Tenderfoot flashed into his 
mind: “ Be prepared. Be ready to meet any 
emergency that may occur.” His mind became 
clearer and his nerves a trifle steadier. Here was 
his opportunity. He would seize it. Fred might 
indeed come with help in time, but he would not 


ALONE AT THE RESERVOIR 191 


depend on Fred. He would depend on himself. 
This was his problem and he would solve it. 

“ We’ll go down and telephone anyway, Joe 
Miller. That’s our next move,” he said to him- 
self. 

He pulled off his heavy walking shoes and 
drew on an extra pair of socks that he had in 
his knapsack. This would enable him to walk 
with less noise, and the double thickness of socks 
would protect his feet from the stones. Then 
he buckled on his hatchet. It was the only 
weapon he had besides his pocket knife, and he 
had a vague feeling that it might prove useful. 
Was there anything else? Oh, yes! He had 
almost forgotten his flashlight. He would need 
that to find his way about the shack. He drew 
it from his knapsack, and then pulling himself 
together left his hiding place and started down 
the hillside. 

He stepped cautiously, stopping to listen every 
half dozen steps or so. Everything was quiet. 
In a few minutes he had reached the end of the 
dam. Here he stopped again. He could hear 
nothing but the whistling of the Special who 
seemed to be somewhere on the bank of the reser- 
voir a hundred yards or so off at the right. Si- 


192 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

lently he crossed the dam and walked up the 
gentle slope to the shack. Here he stopped again 
and listened. There was not a sound; the shack 
looked dark and unoccupied. Coming quietly up 
to the door he fumbled for the latch. There was 
a screen door in place and it was not fastened. 
He opened it and found that the main door of 
the shack was ajar. Quietly he stepped inside. 
He paused again and listened. He could hear 
nothing but the beating of his own heart, and that 
seemed to him as loud as the throbbing of a 
motor. 

Now the question was to find the telephone. 
Bob had not the slightest idea where it was; he 
must use his flashlight, but he must also be care- 
ful or the light would show through the windows. 
Kneeling on the floor and keeping the light low 
in front of him he turned it on. The room was 
flooded with a dim twilight. He was startled at 
so much brightness and afraid that it might be 
seen from the outside; so he turned the flashlight 
off again immediately. After listening a mo- 
ment and hearing nothing he turned it on again. 
Carefully he examined the room. Yes, there was 
the telephone over in the corner. Covering the 
end of the torch almost entirely with his sleeve 


ALONE AT THE RESERVOIR 193 


he crept on his hands and knees toward it. First 
he must find the book. It was three or four min- 
utes before he discovered it stuck behind a tobacco 
jar on a desk near by. While looking for it he 
stopped several times to listen, but he heard noth- 
ing. At last he had the book, and bending over 
it in the corner he found the town of Butler. 
Whom should he call up? He knew nobody 
there. The sheriff? But he did not know his 
name. He thought a minute. How about Police 
Headquarters? Yes, here it was “ Police De- 
partment, 235.” His hand shook so that he 
dropped the book and it fell on the floor making 
a loud noise in the quiet room. Bob was startled, 
and he turned out his flashlight and listened 
again. But he heard nothing and then, plucking 
up his courage, he took do^vn the receiver. For 
an instant or two he waited, straining his ears, 
but he got no response. Then he pushed the 
holder up and down to rouse the operator at the 
other end. Still no response ! Again he listened, 
and again he pushed the holder up and down. 
Not a sound! Slowly the tinith dawned upon 
him. The wires had already been cut ! 


CHAPTER XVIII 


FRED GOES FOR THE SHERIFF 

After leaving Bob, Fred Ashleigh set off 
down the road at a swinging pace. He knew that 
he ought to reach Butler by eight o’clock at the 
latest; that would allow him an hour and three- 
quarters to make the distance. Ordinarily on 
the road he would walk about three miles an hour, 
but if pushed he could do four or perhaps a little 
more. He was in unfamiliar country, however, 
and dependent on Bob’s map for his directions 
and distance. Also, it would soon be dark. This 
made things uncertain. 

During the first half hour everything went 
well. He kept to the main road for about a mile, 
following the valley past the reservoir. Then he 
turned and cutting across the valley, forded the 
stream that fed the reservoir. Here he left the 
main thoroughfare and took a wood road that led 
up the hill. According to the map this road cut 
across the country and struck the main road for 
194 


FRED GOES FOB SHERIFF 195 


Butler again about three miles farther on, thus 
cutting off a big bend and saving a couple of 
miles. 

The climb up the hill proved to be pretty steep 
and the footing bad. The roadway had been 
washed out by rains and was full of large round 
stones. In some places, in fact, there was no 
roadway at all — nothing but a gully through 
which Fred had to pick his way slowly. By the 
time he reached the top of the hill his chafed foot 
had begun to trouble him again, and walking was 
anything but comfortable. It was nearly seven 
o’clock. Climbing the hill had taken longer than 
he had expected, but from now on the way ought 
to be for the most part down-hill. Therefore he 
felt no anxiety. 

At the top of the incline he stopped for a min- 
ute or two to rest; then he hurried on. For the 
next mile the road was doAvn-hill and fairly even. 
Then all at once it came out in a tract of cleared 
land, partly overgrown with bushes and small 
trees. Here it seemed to disappear. There were 
roads and paths running in different directions, 
some of them evidently made by woodcutters; 
others were cattle paths. There was no one 
clearly defined road. Fred was puzzled. He 


196 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

tried first one path and then another, only to find 
that it ended in a brush heap or a pile of cord- 
wood. At last he stopped in despair and sat 
down on a log to rest and get his bearings. 

To his dismay he found that he was lost. He 
had turned about so much in trying to find the 
right road that he could not tell from just what 
direction he had come. In vain he studied the 
outlines of the woods about him. There were no 
landmarks that gave him any help. 

“ Gosh!” he exclaimed aloud, “ I’m lost!” 

He looked at his watch. It was half-past 
seven. The sun was already out of sight behind 
the woods, and in another half hour it would be 
dark. If he couldn’t find the road before then, 
he would have to spend the night in the woods. 
Meanwhile there was Bob back at the dam. 

“ What a fool I was not to take Bob’s advice 
and keep to the main road ! ” he thought. “ Well, 
sitting here won’t help me any,” and getting up 
he looked about, wondering which way to go. 

Suddenly he heard a distant bell. He listened 
and heard it again. It sounded like a cow bell. 
“ That ought to give me my direction,” he 
thought. “ At any rate I’ll see if I can’t locate 
it.” 


FBED GOES FOB SHERIFF 197 

Following what seemed to be the direction of 
the sound, Fred at length found himself in a 
cattle path. It was much overgrown and in 
places was full of holes, but it seemed likely to 
lead out to some human habitation. Every now 
and then he stopped to listen and after a time he 
heard the bell sound a little nearer. Presently 
the road grew wider and clearer; then it skirted 
an open field. Darkness had set in now, and the 
stars were beginning to appear. Fred knew that 
it must be after eight o’clock. What was Bob 
doing, he wondered? A few minutes later he 
saw the outlines of some big farm buildings loom 
up between him and the western sky. Then he 
came to a barred gate. Opening it he found 
himself in a barnyard. A dog barked. Several 
voices called to him. Then a lantern fiashed in 
his face and somebody spoke sharply. It was a 
burly farmer, and he looked at Fred suspiciously. 
Hurriedly Fred told who he was and asked where 
he could find the sheriff. 

“Now what do you want of the sheriff, young 
feller? ” asked the farmer. 

“ There’s a Bolshevik plot to blow up llie Park 
Lake Reservoir,” replied Fred, “ and I came to 
get a posse to stop it.” 


198 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

The farmer stared at him incredulously. 
“ Now how do you know that? ” he asked. 

Breathlessly Fred told him what he had 
learned. The farmer was impressed. “ By 
gosh!” he exclaimed. “Well, now, ain’t they 
the critters ! If that’s your business, young feller. 
I’ll go right along to the sheriff with you. I’m 
a depity, myself.” 

So saying he strode into the house with Fred 
at his heels. A minute or two later they emerged, 
the farmer shotgun in hand, on their way to the 
sheriff’s. A few doors down the street they 
found him hanging over his front gate talking 
with a neighbor. In a few hurried sentences 
Fred told his story. The sheriff was a man of 
action. 

“ Call up what boys you can git on my ’phone, 
Reuben,” he said to his “ depity,” “ while I git 
my gun and crank up the car.” 

Ten minutes later the sheriff’s Ford, loaded 
down with a boy and six men armed with shot- 
guns and Winchesters, was dusting down the 
road from Butler toward the reservoir. 

It was quarter to nine I 


CHAPTER XIX 

HANDS up! 

For a minute or two after finding that the 
telephone wires had been cut Bob sat in dismay 
on the floor in the darkness of the little shack. 
There seemed to be nothing that he could do 
except wait for Fred to arrive with help. And 
Fred should soon be here. Cautiously Bob 
turned on his torch and looked at his watch. It 
was half-past eight! Fred must have reached 
Butler and was probably even now on his way 
back to the reservoir with a sheriff’s posse. 

As he turned out his torch he thought, as he 
had thought a hundred times before, what a good 
imitation it was of an automatic pistol. And 
then all at once, a thought struck him. 
“ Couldn’t I fool the Bolshevik with my flash- 
light? ” He was so carried away with the idea 
that all fear and nervousness for the moment com- 
pletely left him. The whole thing suddenly ap- 
199 


200 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

peared in the light of a desperate game. He was 
up against an outlaw and he would beat him. 
“ We’ll fool the Red, Joe Miller,” he said to him- 
self. “ We’ll capture him, by gum, before the 
sheriff gets here.” 

Bob silently tiptoed out of the house. Near 
the door he listened a moment. There was not 
a sound except a slight rustling of the leaves and 
the chirping of the crickets. “ The man might 
be already fixing his fuses,” he thought. Stealth- 
ily he made his way to the end of the dam. Here 
he stopped and listened again. After a few sec- 
onds he heard a distant whistling from the other 
side of the reservoir. Evidently the policeman 
was getting nervous. Walking out on the dam 
a short distance he looked down over the railing 
that protected the footway and listened again. 
At first he heard nothing; then a faint clinking 
and tapping sounded below him. His heart beat 
rapidly. Doubtless the Red was setting his ex- 
plosive. Now what was the best thing to do? 
Probably there was a path leading down from 
the end of the dam, and very likely the man had 
his wires trained along that path. If he could 
only find it! 

Stepping carefully Bob made his way back to 


201 


HANDS UP! 

the end of the dam. Then getting down on his 
hands and knees he began to feel his way along 
over the ground. At length he came to a smooth 
place. Here was a path, but was it the right 
one? Still stooping and feeling his way he fol- 
lowed it and soon discovered that it led into the 
woods below the dam. At this discovery Bob’s 
heart began to thump again. He was on the 
trail! A few feet further on the path turned to 
the left and descended more steeply. He had 
to proceed very carefully now. In places the 
footing was soft and there were loose stones that 
might be set rolling and make a noise. How far 
down the path should he go? Just where was 
the Bolshevik setting his bomb? Bob remem- 
bered that he had spoken of blowing up the wall 
by the sluice. This was not far from the end of 
the dam and formed the weakest part of it. The 
plan probably was to place the charge near the 
sluice so as to blow it out and break the dam. 
This would release all the water and inflict dam- 
age that would require weeks of repair work. 

After fumbling about the ground on both sides 
of the path Bob’s Angers suddenly touched some- 
thing queer. It was the wires ! They would lead 
him to the Red! Stealthily he crept along. 


202 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

Although there was no moon it was a clear 
night, and now that his eyes had grown used to 
the darkness he could distinguish objects slightly 
about him. He could make out the great black 
bulk of the dam up at his left against the star- 
lit sky, and he could tell from the noise of the 
water that he was now near the sluice. He felt 
again for the wires. They were there all right. 
As he followed them along a few feet farther he 
suddenly found that they turned sharply to the 
left. They were leading him up toward the dam. 
At this discovery Bob paused. He realized what 
chances he was taking — he an unarmed boy 
against an experienced and desperate man. For 
a moment he was troubled — but only for a 
moment. Then his courage rose, and with 
every nerve taut, ears strained to hear the 
slightest sound, eyes striving to pierce the 
darkness, he crept slowly forward, following the 
wires. 

A minute later, when Bob stopped to listen, he 
heard a noise at hand. Peering through the dark- 
ness he made out a faint glow in the bushes just 
ahead. He crept nearer. Yes, there was his 
man! He was working on hands and knees in 
the main wall of the dam close beside the sluice 



HANDS up!” 


V 






HANDS UP! 203 

with his flashlight so arranged that it gave out 
very little light. 

“ Now, Joe Miller,” Bob said to himself, grip- 
ping his torch, “ go to it, boy.” 

Fortunately there was a thick clump of laurel 
growing out of the rocky hillside near the path 
not more than a dozen feet behind the Bolshevik. 
Bob crept up and crouched in the bush. Be- 
tween him and his opponent the path was clear. 
A few steps and he would be upon him. With a 
quick glance Bob measured the ground. He 
could not afford to stumble or to make a mis- 
step. He gripped his torch. His hand was 
trembling. He looked at the big, broad back of 
the Bolshevik. The man had thrown off his coat, 
and it lay on the ground near by. Suddenly Bob 
noticed something protruding from the hip 
pocket of the kneeling man. In an instant his 
plan was formed. Gathering himself together he 
rushed forward. With one hand he jabbed the 
end of his torch into the back of the kneeling 
figure, and with the other he jerked an automatic 
pistol from the man’s hip pocket. 

“ Hands up I ” he called in a voice so fierce it 
surprised him. 

He heard the man take a quick breath. The 


204 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

next instant the Red turned in the half-light and 
looked into the muzzle of his own automatic. 
“ Put ’em up quick! ” commanded Bob. He was 
amazed at his own coolness. 

Slowly the man forced his trembling hands 
above his head. 

“ Now,” whispered Bob hoarsely, “ if you start 
anything I’ll shoot.” 

Transferring the automatic into his right hand 
and holding his torch with his left, he turned on 
the light. 

“ There! ” he said. “ Now, about face. For- 
ward march.” Poking the automatic sharply 
into the fellow’s back he pushed him ahead. The 
man’s silence was reassuring. He seemed to be 
afraid that Bob might shoot him in the back with- 
out warning. So they proceeded along the nar- 
row path, gradually climbing the bank of the 
ravine until at length they reached the edge of 
the bushes at the end of the dam. 

Here it suddenly occurred to Bob that if they 
came out into the open the guard might see them. 
It would be best to keep under cover till the posse 
came. “ Hold on,” he said. “ We’ll wait here 
for a minute.” 

The prisoner stopped obediently. He had 


HANDS UP! 


205 


given no trouble so far. Bob had taken good care 
to keep always behind him, covering him with the 
automatic and the flashlight. He wondered if 
the man realized that he had been captured by a 
boy. 

All of a sudden Bob thought he heard a distant 
sound. He listened intently. Yes, there could 
be no mistake. It was the humming of a motor 
car. It grew louder. Presently two bright 
lights flashed up the road. 

“ Who’s that? ” asked the prisoner, speaking 
for the first time. He started to lower his hands. 

“ Keep ’em up ! ” cried Bob, as he thrust the 
muzzle of the automatic sharply between the 
man’s shoulder-blades. 

A moment later the car dashed in front of the 
shack and half a dozen men leaped out. The 
Special, wondering who the new arrivals were, 
came running across the dam. Bob prodded his 
captive again in the back. “ March ! ” he said. 
The fellow stumbled forward. A little later Bob 
came with his prisoner into the full glare of the 
headlights of the sheriff’s Ford to find Fred 
holding the Special’s Krag and the sheriff snap- 
ping a pair of handcuffs on the man. 

“ Wall, I vum! ” exclaimed the sheriff. 


206 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

Fred’s eyes were big with astonishment. At 
last he exclaimed, “ Well, Bob, you’re a good 
Scout all right, and you sure deserve a medal,” 

Half an hour later the two prisoners were 
locked securely within the brick walls of the But- 
ler jail and Fred and Bob were sinking into 
slumber in a big feather-bed in the sheriff’s 
house. The boys had at first declined the sher- 
iff’s offer of a night’s lodging, but it was the 
sheriff’s wife, a stout, motherly woman, who had 
refused to let them leave the house. 

"‘Do you think I’m a-goin’ to let you boys 
sleep outside while I’ve a clean feather-bed that 
nobody’s a-usin’ ? ” she demanded. “ Specially 
considerin’ what you’ve done? I guess not.” 

And so ended the first day of the hike. 


CHAPTER XX 


THE END OF THE HIKE 

Bob and Fred are hardly to be blamed if they 
failed to awake as early as usual next morning. 
Their strenuous experiences of the preceding day 
made them sleep soundly and long, and the ten- 
der-hearted sheriff’s wife refused to wake them 
until the last moment. 

“ Let ’em sleep, bless their hearts,” she said. 
“ They ain’t nothin’ but boys, and jest think what 
they went through yesterday I ” 

And so they slept until the sheriff’s wife, 
keeping sharp watch of the kitchen clock, had to 
call them so that they would be ready in time for 
the hearing before the local court. The sheriff 
himself looked in on them as they sat at the 
table enjoying a hearty breakfast of ham and 
eggs. He beamed with satisfaction and impor- 
tance as he stood with his hat on in the big room 
that served as kitchen and dining-room. 

“ Feelin’ rested? ” he asked. 

207 


208 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“ Yes, indeed, sir, first rate,” chorused the 
boys. 

“ You ain’t off your feed any so fur as I can 
see,” he remarked with a chuckle. 

“ Not so you’d notice it,” said Bob, laughing. 
“ Who could be before such a breakfast as this? ” 

“ Well,” replied the sheriff, shaking his head 
smilingly, “ there may be better cooks than my 
wife, but I ain’t never seen one.” 

“ Now, John,” remonstrated his wife, “ don’t 
brag. I guess these young gentlemen is used to 
good livin’.” 

They soon finished breakfast and set out for 
the court. This was held in the musty office of 
the only magistrate in town, Judge Withers, who 
combined the activities of attorney-at-law with 
those of real estate and insurance agent. The 
news of the hearing had made a great stir and the 
sheriff and the boys forced their way with diffi- 
culty through the crowd that overflowed from 
the inside of the office out around the door. 

The hearing was interesting and at times thrill- 
ing. The boys told their story in detail. The 
explosive and the electric mechanism for setting 
it off were produced in court. Then, to make 
the case more conclusive, the bribed Special, in 


THE END OF THE HIKE 209 


the hope of saving his own neck, confessed his 
part in the plot, declaring that he did it in order 
to get out of debt. So it happened that in the 
course of a couple of hours the Red, who gave his 
name as Karl Nivilski, was bound over for trial 
at the next term of the county court and was 
taken away to be confined in the county jail. 
With him departed the bribed policeman. 

The only newspaper in town told of several 
similar plots to destroy property in different 
parts of the State. In only two cases were they 
successful, however, and more than a hundred 
Reds had been rounded up at the last minute. 

The boys were the heroes of the occasion, and 
now that they were free to continue their hike, 
they found it hard to get away from their hos- 
pitable admirers. The judge himself, throwing 
aside official dignity, urged them to postpone 
their hike for a day, and offered to take them 
fishing. Several of the villagers insisted on 
carrying them back to the Scout camp by auto- 
mobile. The boys laughingly but politely de- 
clined these offers, explaining that they were 
sent on the hike by their Scout Commissioner and 
that duty called for them to complete their jour- 
ney, so far as possible, according to schedule. 


210 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

They accepted the invitation of the sheriff’s wife 
to have dinner, however, as it was noon by the 
time they were free, and their recollection of the 
good breakfast they had eaten was vivid and 
pleasant. Before setting out they sent a tele- 
gram to Mr. McGregor, telling him that they 
had been delayed and would in consequence be a 
day late in returning to camp. They added that 
they were all right and that there was no need for 
him to worry. 

After the wonderful experience of their first 
day the remainder of their hike seemed very 
tame. The weather was perfect, their spirits 
were high, and they found each other more con- 
genial than ever. There was nothing to cast the 
smallest shadow over their enjoyment. 

This was the first time that Bob had ever been 
thrown on his own resources for so long a time, 
and it was a wonderful experience. He felt a 
keen sense of his responsibility and at the end of 
the day as he lay out under the stars wrapped up 
in his blanket he felt a strong feeling of satisfac- 
tion. Yes, Joe Miller,” he said to himself, 
“ when a fellow is alone he has to paddle his own 
canoe.” 

The boys reached the Scout camp on the even- 


THE END OF THE HIKE 211 


ing of the fourth day just as the camp-fire was 
being lighted. Mr. McGregor greeted them 
warmly. 

I’ve been expecting you every minute during 
the last two hours,” he said. “ I have been 
counting on you to entertain us this evening with 
the story of your trip. But I suppose you 
haven’t had supper yet.” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Fred. “ When we found we 
were going to be late we stopped and had a bite 
by the roadside. We can hold out till morning, 
I guess.” 

Reddy, the Egg, and their other friends 
crowded about the boys with warm greetings. 
“ How’s the snake-charmer? ” asked the Egg, 
with a friendly grin as he gripped Bob’s hand. 

“ Fine and dandy,” replied Bob. 

“ W^liat made you a day late? ” asked Reddy. 

“ You couldn’t guess right if you tried for a 
year,” said Bob. 

“ Oh, quit your kidding. Tenderfoot! ” 

“ It’s a sure thing,” put in Fred. “ The fact 
is the Tenderfoot has scored again.” 

At this Mr. McGregor glanced up quickly. 
“What’s this about our Tenderfoot scoring 
again? ” he asked. 


212 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

“ Tell him, Bob,” urged Fred. 

And so while the whole camp listened with 
eager ears Bob told the story of their adventures 
from beginning to end. When he finished there 
was silence for a few seconds; then came a wild 
burst of cheering and hand-clapping. Bob had 
been popular before, and though he was only a 
Tenderfoot he had become a leader at the camp. 
Now he was looked upon as a hero. He had 
been a good Scout. He had stood the test when 
the trial came. He had faced death without 
hesitation and by his courage and nerve he had 
triumphed. 

Mr. McGregor was enthusiastic in his con- 
gratulations. “ Guess I’ll have to report you to 
Headquarters, my boy,” he said. “ It’s beyond 
my authority to honor you adequately for such 
service as you’ve done. However, I can take a 
little credit to myself for giving you that electric 
torch. If you hadn’t had that in your kit your 
courage might not have been quite so good, eh? ” 

Bob shook his head and smiled. “ Maybe 
not,” he replied. 

“ I believe Bob would have found some way to 
catch the fellow,” said Reddy McTurk, even if 
he had been obliged to finish him off with a stone 


THE END OF THE HIKE 213 


the way David did Goliath. Believe me, Bob is 
some wizard. Look at the way he fooled us with 
Si Turtelotte’s old horse.” 

It was no use to think of breaking up the camp- 
fire at the usual hour that night. The boys had 
so many questions to ask that they kept Bob talk- 
ing long after the usual bedtime. Instead of 
sending them off to their tents, Mr. McGregor 
announced that Taps would be sounded half an 
hour later than usual, and then surprised them 
by producing an enormous box of marshmallows 
which he declared were in need of toasting. 
There was an instant stampede to cut twigs to 
toast with, and then everybody sat about the 
camp-fire chatting and eating sweetmeats until 
the last bugle sent them off to bed. 

The remaining two weeks of camp sped 
swiftly, and at last the day came when they were 
to leave. Tents were struck, blankets rolled up, 
cots folded and kits packed, and after many tire- 
some trips between the camp and the Ark every- 
thing was at last stored in the trailer or in the 
motor cars of Mr. Callahan. 

Bob had gone to camp to spend a week or ten 
days to see how he liked it. He had ended by 
spending tv/o months. He had gone doubtfully, 


214 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

not feeling at all sure that he should like the 
Seouts or the life at camp. Now he was a Scout 
himself. It had been a great summer and he had 
never felt so well in his life. He was hard as 
najls, his muscles were firm and his head clear. 
He had gained a new confidence in himself. He 
had no regrets now about missing the Adiron- 
dacks or the seashore resorts that he had formerly 
visited. He had gone to the camp largely be- 
cause he liked Fred Ashleigh, and he had felt 
doubtful about the other boys that he might meet. 
With a smile he thought of his old high school 
friends — of “ Nellie ” Paynter, who had jeered at 
the idea of his going to the Scout camp, and of 
Ted Patrick, who had warned him against join- 
ing the Scouts because it would interfere with his 
getting into a school “ frat.” How silly their 
opposition seemed now. They simply did not 
know what the Scouts stood for. They did not 
understand the meaning of the Scout activities. 
Well, he was a Scout now, and it would be his 
duty in the future to help the movement. 

As for the school “ frats,” what did he care for 
them anyway ? He was a member of Beaver Par 
trol. If he could not be a “ frat ” member and 
a Scout too, so much the worse for the “ frats.” 


THE END OF THE HIKE 215 


Bob was roused from his thoughts by Reddy 
McTurk’s voice, “Wake up, Bob I Wake up. 
Come on, fellows, a cheer for the Scout camp.” 

The cheers were given with a will as the boys 
all craned their necks to get a last look at the 
little valley. Then the Ark plimged over the 
crest and Glen Gray was lost to sight. 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE HONOR MEDAL 

The fall term of the Cedarville High School 
was well under way and Bob Hanson was 
hard at work with his studies. Somehow he 
found himself facing the new school year with 
a different spirit. In the past he had never cared 
much whether he had high marks or not; nor had 
he hesitated at wasting time with idle compan- 
ions. In fact, most of his former close friends 
believed that it was rather against a fellow to get 
high marks. It showed that you were either a 
greasy grind or a teacher’s pet; and one was about 
as bad as the other. Bob now realized that his 
school duties were something to be performed as 
well as possible, and that a good record in his 
studies would reflect as much credit on him as a 
good record in swimming or any other Scout ac- 
tivity. It was all a matter of doing your best at 
whatever task that was set before you. And so 
216 


THE HONOR MEDAL 


217 


there was no time for idling; nor did he feel any 
liking for idlers. Ted Patrick, “ Nellie ” Payn- 
ter, and the rest had ceased to interest him, and 
after a few attempts to keep him in their little 
circle they gave up the task as hopeless. “You’re 
dippy on that Scout stuff. Bob,” said Ted Pat- 
rick one day. “ You better chuck it before it’s 
too late. You’ll be sorry if you don’t.” 

“ You don’t need to worry if I don’t,” replied 
Bob, smiling. 

Ted Patrick scowled. “ I don’t know what’s 
got into you. Bob,” he said. “ You seemed to 
have the making of a good ‘ frat ’ man in you, 
but you’re hopeless now. What you see in that 
Scout bunch I can’t make out.” 

One morning several weeks later after the 
opening of school. Bob received notice from 
Scout Headquarters asking him to report at a 
meeting of the Court of Honor a few days later. 
On mentioning the matter to Fred he learned 
that it was a regular autumn meeting at which 
honors were announced and medals awarded to 
Scouts who had distinguished themselves in any 
conspicuous way. “ You don’t want to miss it, 
Bob,” he said. “ It’s something to see. There 
are always some high mucky-mucks from Head- 


218 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

quarters present, and the Mayor is usually there 
and makes a speech. It’s quite a grand occa- 
sion.” 

“We wear our uniforms, of course,” said Bob. 

“ Sure ! Doll yourself up to the limit.” 

The night of the meeting Bob was on hand at 
Scout Headquarters with about a hundred and 
fifty other Scouts, and their Scoutmasters. 
While they were awaiting the order to march into 
the auditorium Mr. McGregor appeared with a 
paper from which he read the names of a dozen 
or fifteen boys. 

“ These boys will drop out of the ranks and 
take seats on the stage with me,” said the Com- 
missioner. “ The others will sit in the front rows 
on the floor facing the stage.” Bob’s name was 
included in the list. 

The events of the next few minutes were for 
Bob rather confused. Somehow he found him- 
self on the stage in the brilliantly lighted audito- 
rium, sitting in a row with other Scouts. In the 
center of the stage sat Mr. McGregor with the 
Mayor on his right and Judge Andrews, of the 
Court of Honor, on his left. At first he was too 
confused to look at the audience, but by degrees 
his embarrassment wore off and he ventured to 


THE HONOR MEDAL 


219 


glance about the room. The Scouts belonging 
to the various troops in town were all seated in 
the first few rows, while behind them were a few 
townspeople, evidently invited guests. As Bob 
looked them over he thought for a moment that 
he saw his mother in one of the back rows. But 
when he looked again he concluded that he must 
be mistaken. If she had intended to come, she 
would have said something about it. Just then 
the Commissioner rose and began to speak, and 
Bob’s thoughts turned to other things. 

After a brief speech by the Mayor Mr. Mc- 
Gregor read the names of the boys who were to 
receive badges or medals for unusual services, 
and as their names were read the boys came for- 
ward to the center of the stage and their medals 
were pinned on their coats by Judge Andrews. 
Bob’s turn came last. When his name was called 
he somehow stumbled over to the center of the 
stage where he stood with shaking Imees before 
Mr. McGregor. The Commissioner smiled at 
him encouragingly. So did the Mayor and 
Judge Andrews. 

“ Stand up straight. Scout Hanson,” said 
Mr. McGregor. “ I want everybody to have a 
good look at you. He’s more afraid of us than 


220 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

he was of the Bolshevik,” added the Commis- 
sioner laughingly to the Mayor and the Judge. 
Mr. McGregor’s words and the friendly looks of 
the Mayor and the Judge made him feel more at 
ease. 

“ Scout Hanson,” continued the Commissioner, 
“ has been recommended for one of the great- 
est honors in the gift of the Court of Honor, 
a decoration rarely awarded and then only for 
service calling for the highest courage.” 

Bob could feel his face getting redder and 
redder. 

“Although only a Tenderfoot of a month’s 
standing and but newly acquainted with the 
ideals and duties of the organization, Scout Han- 
son proved himself equal to an emergency of 
the most serious character. Having discovered 
a plot to blow up a reservoir, he dared to risk his 
life to capture the would-be perpetrator of the 
crime and actually succeeded in doing so and in 
turning him over to the officers of justice. It 
was a deed that many a grown man would have 
hesitated to undertake, and which, if executed 
with less resolution or courage, might have failed 
or even have caused his own death. By his un- 
shrinking courage he saved enormous property 


THE HONOR MEDAL 


221 


loss and aided in bringing to justice a desperate 
enemy of his country and of mankind. The 
Court of Honor has unhesitatingly awarded to 
him the silver medal of honor, the first time that 
this medal has ever been awarded in this district.” 

Mr. McGregor and the Mayor shook Bob’s 
hand vigorously. Judge Andrews pinned the 
medal on his coat, and amid tremendous hand- 
clapping and cheering Bob made his way back 
to his seat. Then before he realized it, the meet- 
ing was over, the Scouts had filed out, and he was 
following the Commissioner, the Mayor, and the 
Judge down the steps leading from the stage to 
the floor of the hall. 

As he reached the floor a lady ran forward and 
threw her arms round his neck. “ Oh, Bob, Bob ! 
I’m so proud of you ! ” she cried. 

“ Mother! You here! ” exclaimed Bob. 

“ Yes, and somebody else, too,” said a deep 
bass voice. And looking up Bob saw his father 
standing close beside him, his face beaming with 
pride. 

“ Why, Dad, I thought you were in Washing- 
ton,” exclaimed Bob. 

“ So I was, youngster, but when I got your 
mother’s letter telling me that you were to be 


222 BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 

given a medal to-night I couldn’t help running 
over to see that the job was properly done.” 

Bob stared. “ So you knew I was to get a 
medal, Mother? ” he asked in surprise. 

Mrs. Hanson smiled. “ Yes, indeed,” she 
said. “ Mothers have a way of finding things 
out that you boys know nothing about. I’ve 
known it for several days and I can’t tell you 
how proud I am of you.” 

“ I don’t deserve any credit. Mother. I only 
did my duty as a Scout,” said Bob, and he re- 
peated the words of the Scout Law; “A Scout is 
brave. He has the courage to face danger in 
spite of fear.” 

Mrs. Hanson smiled. “Ah, Bob.” she said, 
“ it’s a wonderful thing to have ideals to live up 
to, and it’s still more wonderful to succeed in liv- 
ing up to them. In becoming a Scout you have 
certainly joined a noble army of boys. It has 
done a lot for you and I have no doubt that it will 
do more as time goes on.” 

“ Yes, Mother, I’m only a Tenderfoot now, 
and I shan’t be satisfied until I’m a first class 
Scout and have my sleeve covered with merit 
badges. I’m going to climb to the top.” 

Mr. Hanson smiled. “ That’s the right 


THE HONOR MEDAL 


223 


spirit, Bob,” he said. “ You’ve made a good 
start and I’m proud of you; don’t rest satisfied 
with what you’ve done. Prepare yourself for 
greater responsibilities and wider fields of elfort. 
Be ready for anything that comes.” 

“ In other words, follow the Scout motto, ‘ Be 
Prepared,’ ” said Bob, smiling. 


The Books in this Series are : 

BOB HANSON, TENDERFOOT 
BOB HANSON, SCOUT 

BOB HANSON, FIRST CLASS SCOUT (in prew) 


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